


The Avatar, the Princess, and the Chakras

by A_F_S_M_A_S



Series: Azulaang Chakras AU [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Azulaang - Freeform, Azulaang Chakras AU, F/M, Language, Mental Health Issues, Not LOK Compliant, Not comics compliant, POV Alternating, Recovery, Show Canon Compliant, Sukka, aang is ever the beacon of optimism and a living ray of sunshine, azula both hates and is charmed by him, chakras, discussions relating to past and present mental health issues, katoph, maiko, not books compliant, ty lee is gay and living her best life with another kyoshi warrior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 63,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26297023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_F_S_M_A_S/pseuds/A_F_S_M_A_S
Summary: Eight years following the end of the Hundred Year War, Avatar Aang reaches out to a former enemy, offering to bring her peace and balance.
Relationships: Aang/Azula (Avatar), Mai/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar), Toph Beifong/Katara
Series: Azulaang Chakras AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2058684
Comments: 128
Kudos: 244





	1. Arrival

Dr. Chiyo, head of the island’s institution, was flanked on both sides by fellow doctors, nurses, and attendants. “Lord Avatar,” she greeted, leading them in a low bow, “it is an honor to meet you.”

“Please,” he replied, raising a gentle hand and giving them a smile, “just call me Aang.”

The doctor paused, surprised at his amiability. “As you wish… avatar, sir.” 

Aang let out a little sigh, but he wasn’t surprised. People who met him for the first time often felt overwhelmed, despite his attempts to be informal. There were a few times as a boy that he delighted in the reverence that people showed him, but his journeys during and after the war, as well as his maturation into manhood, had strengthened the humility that the monks instilled him. “Did Zuko’s letter arrive?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. The fire lord’s messenger hawk arrived yesterday. I must say, we didn’t expect the avatar of all people to be the one who would take her from here one day.”

“How is she?”

As if on cue, an attendant handed Dr. Chiyo a scroll which she respectfully held out to him. Aang unfurled it, reading the comprehensive notes of her progress over the last year and summaries of previous reports. Aang made sure to double and triple check the details, trying to see if there had been any changes from messages that had been sent to Zuko over the past years. “You’re still in agreement that she’s not a danger to herself or to others?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. It’s been over three years since her last… incident.”

The sudden uneasiness that filled the room told Aang that they had all been present for the event in question.

“So, if I took her with me, you don’t think there would be any risk of her hurting herself?”

“I am pleased with the princess’ progress,” Chiyo answered. “She has been open to recognizing cognitive distortions she experiences, and to trying coping strategies I have suggested, but I’m afraid there is still a wall. She trusts us not to hurt or use her, but not enough to delve too deeply into past, personal matters. And…”

Aang saw the way her expression tightened, the way her lips pressed together, how she momentarily looked away from him. “Please, doctor,” he assured her. “Whatever you have to say, I’ll listen.”

Dr. Chiyo worked up the courage to continue. “The patient history that the fire lord provided to us when she first arrived spoke of a young woman who manipulated those around her and was frequently dishonest, even with friends and family. There is still the small possibility that she’s been lying to us over this period of recovery. And... I would be remiss if I didn’t bring up the potential risk to your safety if she has been.”

The idea of Azula faking the progress that had been reported to Zuko was a possibility that Aang had considered. Confirming the truth was one of the reasons he needed to speak with her before taking her from Doiyasu. Still, Aang preferred to say optimistic. In this trial he was about to undertake, hope was going to be his best ally.

“Thank you for telling me that, doctor. I’ll keep it in mind.” Aang rolled up the scroll and returned it. He took a step away from Dr. Chiyo so that he could face her and all of the staff that had come to meet him. He opened his right hand and held it above his left fist as he bowed to them, saying, “Thank you for everything you have done, doctors. If my gambit pays off, it will be because you helped Azula rebuild a solid foundation from which she could heal.”

The staff was speechless. The stories had always painted the avatar as larger than life, more of a god than a man. This was the same person who defeated Fire Lord Ozai during the midst of Sozin’s Comet, the man who ended a century of war. To receive such honor from him, in so humble and respectful a manner, would be a memory that would stay with them forever. Dr. Chiyo finally found the words to answer him. “Thank you, avatar,” she replied, leading her colleagues in a reciprocating bow. “We hope you succeed in helping our princess.”

Leaving them with one more smile, Aang made his way to Azula’s room.

The buildings of Doiyasu Island had seen renovations as recently as three years ago, but the island’s function as a refuge for those suffering from mental and physical turmoil began over 400 years ago. Lady Hiza, wife of Fire Lord Zhulou, was well known for her philanthropic endeavors, and bequeathed the island to a group of healers and sages who sought to treat soldiers from poor families who had been marred by recent conflicts, from those who suffered the loss of a limb or their eyesight, to those who carried the stress of combat within their minds. Though Doiyasu had stayed true to its original purpose, there were dark rumors about the island that had cropped up over the centuries. These included nobility and royalty using the island to hide away certain relations whose ailments were seen as embarrassing to their families, developing techniques of chi blocking combat, and connections with secret societies such as the White Lotus, whose past reputation was not what it was in the modern day.

Still, Aang could not help but admire the place. Whereas much of Fire Nation architecture, from its sharp designs, to its dynamic coloring, to its use of metal, was meant to embody the strength, discipline, and passion it expected of its people, the builders of Doiyasu’s facilities had a mind for creating a gentle, welcoming atmosphere. Written below the national insignia on the main gate were the words, “The warm flame sought on a cold night.” The floors were smooth, polished marble, while the walls and ceilings were painted soft shades of red, pink, and white, and crafted from local reng trees, a wood known for its semi-resistance to fire. The asylum’s construction created spacious proportions that tried to avoid making their patients feel constrained or trapped. Outside the hallway windows he could see a few patients with their aides walking through the gardens that sported flowers from all over the Fire Nation, with cherry blossom trees towering above them. The ponds even had turtle ducks swimming about. If there was a person in the world who could look at a turtle duck and not grin from ear to ear, Aang didn’t want to know them. 

But despite the masterful work of the asylum’s carpenters, builders, and planners, Aang’s anxiety drove needles into his stomach deeper and deeper as he made his way through the hallway to the East Wing.

Finally, he was at her door. Never had a piece of wood seemed like such a boundary to traverse. Suddenly, all the preparation he had done leading up to this moment felt insufficient. When the idea had first entered his mind, which seemed so long ago now, he made certain to discuss it with everyone whose wisdom he felt was needed.

* * *

Katara was the first he wanted to speak with on the matter. Toph, who was never far from her side nowadays, would have to be the second, as Aang would end up discussing the matter in their home in Omashu. Since taking residence in the city, Toph had established an earthbending dojo from which she would pass on her various teachings to new generations of earthbenders. Aang was lucky enough to watch a class in session, and winced in nostalgic solidarity as the students did their best to survive Sifu Toph’s lesson of the day.

Like always, Toph could recognize his footsteps a mile away. With a quick movement of her arms, Aang was suddenly thrust into the air by a rock erupting beneath him. He used a gust of wind to land with style right next to Sifu Toph. The class, exhausted from their day of lessons, immediately perked up in amazement at the sight of the avatar.

“Kids!” she proclaimed to her students, wrapping an arm around Aang and pulling him close to show him off. “You may recognize this guy as the avatar, but his more impressive honor is being my first earthbending student.”

The class, now encircling them both, already knew this. Everyone in Omashu knew that the avatar’s earthbending mentor was one of them now. Hell, the history books and the world would know of Toph Beifong until the end of time. Still, seeing the avatar in person, and knowing that they shared a teacher with him, blew them away, making them mutter amongst each other about how awesome this was.

“Twinkle Toes,” Toph said, “tell them how you defeated Ozai.”

Aang had to keep his laughter in check, as this wasn’t the first time Toph used him in this manner. “I won by using the earthbending techniques that Sifu Toph taught me.”

“Damn right you did!” she exclaimed, slamming her palm into his back, knocking the air out of him.

Katara’s days were kept full by her duties as an ambassador for the Southern Water Tribe. Master Pakku and the Northern Water Tribe delegation had long ago begun the reconstruction of her homeland, and Katara furthered it by forging alliances with the states of the southern Earth Kingdom, opening up new trade routes, establishing diplomatic missions in key areas, and even helping to open up a hospital staffed by Water Tribe healers in Omashu. Somehow, word of her endeavors had reached the Foggy Swamp Tribe, for it hadn’t been long after she established herself in Omashu that Due and Thu, accompanied by a band of swampbenders and Slim the catgator, showed up in Omashu, saying, “We heard there’s a kin-gathering of waterbenders, and we ain’t bout to miss that!”

Aang and Toph found Katara where she usually was, at her desk in her office located within Bumi’s palace. Her assistant stood next to her, going over yet another scroll that needed her signature. She was so wrapped up in the endless minutiae of her day that, when the door opened, she only noticed Toph at first. “Honey, I’m sorry, now’s not a good time for a break.”

“Alright,” she shrugged. “I guess Twinkle Toes can wait.”

Katara finally put down the paper and was greeted by the sight of both Toph and Aang. Her surprise turned to a massive grin. Katara rushed past her desk, knocking over papers that her assistant had to catch, to hug Aang.

“Busy day, Madame Ambassador?” he asked.

Katara let out a sigh mixed in with a little laughter. “You have no idea.”

It had been over two years since their separation. Even now, neither of them would be able to give a solid answer to the question of why they split up. It was not an easy subject, and neither wished to dwell on it. But, the important thing was that they had remained friends. Neither wanted to imagine their lives without the other in it. Aang and Katara would always love each other, even if the nature of that love had changed.

That night after dinner, Aang told them his plan. Needless to say, they were both shocked, but in the end they agreed to hear him out. When he finished, Katara’s response to his proposition came with a dejected, but sympathetic, sigh. “Aang, I know you mean well, but she’s not like Zuko, or Jet, or anyone who used to be an enemy.”

“Do you remember the journey Roku took me on before the Day of Black Sun?

“Yes, but-”

“Everyone, including the Fire Nation, has to be treated like they’re worth giving a chance. Look at Zuko.”

“Zuko didn’t… hurt you the way that Azula did.”

“Not successfully, but he tried. Several times.”

Katara let out a short, frustrated groan, recognizing Aang’s point but still infuriated by it. “When did this idea come into your mind?”

For a moment, Aang considered telling them of his vision, but… _no_ , he thought. _Not here, not yet._

“I’ve been thinking about her for over a year now,” he told them, which was the truth. “Ever since Zuko told me of her doctor’s reports of her improvement. I already spoke with Guru Pathik about her, and he thinks there’s a chance. I kept looking for a window of opportunity when the world didn’t need me at the ready to solve its next problem, and for once it doesn’t. The avatar has to maintain the balance of the world, and that means bringing peace to the people in my life. Even those who used to be my enemy.”

“Aang-”

“You know how Ozai treated the people around him,” Aang continued. “He didn’t hurt Azula the same way he did Zuko, but that doesn’t change the monstrous way he raised her.” 

The sight of Azula in chains, screaming and sobbing, still felt fresh in Katara’s mind. So did the moment she held Aang’s body after Azula struck him with a bolt of lightning. “That doesn’t change the fact that, for many, she was the victimizer.”

“I know. If she was unrepentant, I wouldn’t be considering this. But I’ve read the messages from Doiyasu. I think that there’s a real chance for her.”

Toph, seated next to Katara, had quietly listened to them talk. Though Aang was fixated on his debate with Katara, her almost uncharacteristic silence on the sideline did make him a little nervous. Then, Toph put a fist to Katara’s arm, though she was gentler with her than she was with everyone else. “Katara, you know Twinkle-Toes is going to try no matter what anyone says. He’s already got the idea in his head that he can help her.”

Katara looked at her girlfriend. Aang glanced down to find that Toph had placed a comforting hand on Katara’s thigh. After a moment of silent concern, the reassuring gesture led Katara to relax. When she looked back to Aang, her resistance was gone. “If you need anything for your plan, I’ll help.”

“Thank you, Katara,” he said, bowing his head to her with a smile.

Toph quickly added, “But if Azula hurts you again, I’ll drop a mountain on her.”

Aang chuckled. “Thanks, Toph.”

Katara made room in her schedule for the next two weeks to go over healing lessons with Aang, who would then get firsthand experience volunteering in the clinic she had established. Needless to say, the other healers in it were shocked to be working alongside the avatar for a time. Though Aang was sure the problem he would face with Azula was as much mental as it was physical, he was certain to arm himself with a greater understanding of how the flow of chi in the body could affect a person’s health, and of how to use waterbending to heal such imbalances.

His time in Omashu also allowed him to see what Toph and Katara were like as a couple. His chances to be together with his friends were few and far between, and this was the first extended visit he had since the two had become a couple. Toph gave Katara chances to express herself, when the frustrations of her duties were becoming too much to handle, and kept her grounded. She also made sure Katara got enough rest and didn’t skip meals, which Aang had sometimes noticed in the final days of their relationship. He found out from Katara’s various staff that Toph had spoken to each of them, making them promise to watch over Katara’s health and to report any unhealthy habits or behavior to her. Katara, in turn, had shown Toph how to look for and pursue gentler approaches in life, just as she did when Toph was first teaching him earthbending. The students at the dojo always appreciated a surprise visit from Katara, as it meant that their sifu would ease up on them, if only for the day. At a lunch he had at the dojo one day, Aang learned from one of the students, a young girl named Samanda, that she had once made the mistake of gushing over how beautiful a couple the two were out loud during one of Katara’s visits. In response, Sifu Toph kicked up a pillar under her that sent her flying across the dojo. “I don’t need my students ballyhooing over my personal life,” Toph had informed her class that day while Katara saw to Samanda’s bruises.

“If it makes you feel any better, Samanda,” Aang told her, “Sifu Toph hit me with plenty of surprise pillars back in the day.”

Katara and Toph woke early in the day, their lean breakfasts often consisting of fruit, rice, buns, and tea. They rarely had chances to have lunch together, and would normally go until nightfall before seeing each other again for dinner. When Aang arrived at their home late from a shift at the hospital one night, he found them not at the dinner table in separate chairs but on the carpet near their fireplace, Katara laying on Toph’s lap with a plate of desserts nearby. As Aang observed their domestic routines from day to day, it was hard for him to believe they were once the same girls who got into a shouting match over setting up camp. Now, they balanced each other so well. He never saw a morning in which they didn’t kiss one another goodbye before leaving the house, wishing the other a good day.

When Aang eventually took his leave of them and of Omashu, he left with a sense of optimism for the rest of his travels, and a content feeling for Katara and Toph. “They make a good couple, don’t they?” he said to Appa and Momo as much as he said to no one in particular.

* * *

Of course, no visit to Omashu would’ve been complete without visiting his oldest friend.

“Bumi, do you think I’m crazy for trying to help someone who used to try to kill me?” Aang asked as the two laid side by side watching clouds go by, Appa, Momo, and Flopsie grazing nearby.

“You make friends with everybody, Aang. It’s natural you would befriend someone who tried to kill you before. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me Momo tried something before you two became close.”

“This isn’t the first time I reached out to someone like this, but… I don’t know.”

“What about that nice Zuko boy? He tried to kill you a few times, and now you’re good friends.”

“That’s what I told Katara! But it’s been so long since I’ve seen Azula, I haven’t really talked to her that many times in the past, and I know that almost everyone I’m going to talk to on the matter is going to have a negative opinion about my idea. I can’t help but feel nervous.”

Bumi reached a hand over to pat Aang on the head. “There, there. I’m sure everyone will come around, and you’ll have that princess falling for you in no time.”

“I want to help her, Bumi. I’m not trying to marry her.”

“Who says you can’t do both?” Bumi let out his iconic cackle and snort. “Don’t worry, Aang. I’m sure you can help this princess of yours, and I’ll make sure you don’t wind up a lonely old spinster.”

Aang laughed. “Thanks, Bumi.”

* * *

Aang knew his plan wasn’t going to make anyone happy, but there were a few people whose reactions he dreaded more than others. One of them was Suki.

Sokka and Suki were based in the northwest of the Earth Kingdom, on lands that were once among the Fire Nation’s first colonies. The alliance between the Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, and Water Tribe had sought to create a fifth nation, one inhabited by members of all other nations. Though Aang and Zuko had started the initiative, Sokka had seen to most of the day-to-day operations of making the venture a reality. Suki, along with the other Kyoshi Warriors, were given the responsibility of gathering and leading a small armed force to protect the burgeoning new country. Their responsibility would also give Aang a chance to speak with Ty Lee afterwards.

Sokka was the first he found when he landed, though Aang had to greet a sea of builders, benders, soldiers, and others who were part of the initiative. He eventually reached him at a table covered in scrolls detailing the planning of the capital city. Little Kya, who had grown so big at thirteen months, shouted “Aanga! Aanga!” from the high chair she sat on next to her dad’s seat. Even if she always added an extra syllable, Kya saying his name always made Aang start to well up. The moment she was in his arms Kya grabbed hold of the wooden pendant that hung from his neck and put it in her mouth, as was her wont. As he laughed, Aang couldn’t help but wonder if he ever did the same thing to Monk Gyatso’s necklace.

Sokka was just as glad to see him, though his greeting wasn’t as cute. Clearly in need of a break, he seized the opportunity to pour both of them a drink and pull up a chair. Aang felt guilty over robbing Sokka of a clearly needed chance to relax, but a sticky bandage is best ripped off, not peeled.

“I came here to tell you that I want to help Azula.”

The journey of Sokka’s facial expression was something to behold. His happiness broke into shock, quickly sparked into anger, and then slowly collapsed into an exhausted acceptance. He raised a hand to rub his tired brow. “Of course you do.”

“I was hoping you could help me broach the matter with Suki.”

Sokka lowered his hand from his face so that Aang could see his full annoyance. “Gee, Aang, I don’t know why you would think that wouldn’t go over well. ‘Hey Suki! Remember that crazy firebender who captured you, imprisoned you, played mind games with you, and stole the clothes that have major significance to your culture? I was thinking that I should be her new therapist!’”

Kya, still fiddling with Aang’s amulet and completely unaware of what her father and uncle were talking about, laughed at the sudden temper in her dad’s voice. 

“If this little girl ever gets into trouble, it’ll be Suki who hands down the groundings. Every time I raise my voice, she starts laughing.”

“At least it’s a good sign she’ll laugh at the dad jokes you’ll tell her when she’s older.”

“You don’t think I haven’t already been telling her dad jokes?” Sokka’s displeasure at Aang’s proposal couldn’t withstand the smile that overtook his face. “I am looking forward to her learning to talk in full sentences. That’s when I’ll hit her with the A material.”

Aang’s secret purpose hung over both of them at dinner that night like a storm cloud, even as they and Suki spoke of the new nation’s progress, as they appraised one another of recent new events in their lives, and as they laughed with each other as only friends can. It wasn’t until Kya was put to bed that Aang finally told Suki of the ulterior motive of his visit. Her eyes widened, then narrowed in anger as she turned to her husband. “You knew about this.”

Sokka made no attempt to deny it or even to look his irate wife in the eye, keeping his gaze fixed solely on the plate in front of him. “He brought it up the moment he got me alone after he landed. He wants mine, yours, and Ty Lee’s opinion on the matter.”

Suki drew in a sharp breath through her nose. “I see.” Aang had never before been the target of Suki’s frustration. The sight of it at that moment made him pity any enemy that had ever come across her. “Aang,” she said, “you must have already known what I would say. So why ask?”

Aang replied, “Because the avatar should always seek out the wisdom of those around him.”

“Is it my wisdom you want, or my approval?”

He paused. “I don’t want to do this behind your back. I value our friendship too much.”

“Have you spoken with anyone else about this?” Suki asked, the anger building in her voice. “What of Katara? If anyone could tell you just how crazy your idea is, it’s her!”

“I already visited her and Toph in Omashu.”

“And what did she say?”

“She was apprehensive at first, but eventually said that she would assist me if I needed it.”

Suki sighed, resting her elbow on the table and her face on her hand. “I preferred Katara back when you were dating her. Toph is a bad influence on her.”

“Toph did say she would drop a mountain on Azula if she had to.”

She let out a small breath of laughter. “That I’d like to see.” Suki lowered her hand to the table, curling into a fist. She looked away from them, contemplating. Neither man dared break the silence that hung in the air. In the end, Suki turned her steeled gaze back to Aang. “You really think that you can... help her?”

Aang nodded. “Yes.”

Her next question cut straight to the point. “If she threatens someone, anyone, will you do to her what you did to Ozai?”

“Yes.”

“Then do what you will, Aang.” Suki took her leave of them, calmly shutting the sliding door behind her as she went for a walk.

The men at the table drank their tea quietly for a moment before Aang asked, “So, how much trouble am I in with her, and how much should I be worried?”

Sokka replied, “For the first question, I don’t know. I actually try not to get on her bad side, which I feel that I am now just for being tertiarily associated with your dumb idea. As for the second, very much so.”

* * *

The next day, Aang found the chance to speak with Ty Lee in private. The former circus acrobat had done quite well for herself as a Kyoshi Warrior. She was in charge of instructing a squad of non-benders in chi blocking for the city’s security, she taught yoga classes for everyone who was a part of the initiative, and she had even started a relationship with a fellow Kyoshi Warrior named Aiya. He came across her atop a hill near a construction site, going through her routine morning stretch. Ty Lee was so happy to see him, and he likewise. Though they hardly knew one another during the war and had few chances to spend time together following its end, they had quickly become as thick as thieves during their first chance to connect. Mai had once said of their gleeful rapport, “I am so glad that you two don’t get to hang out around me often.”

Ty Lee had such an infectious joy to her that Aang felt guilty to ruin her good mood by telling her of what he was planning. It hurt to watch her smiling demeanor deflate after he told her of the reason for his visit.

“Aang,” she told him, “I think it’s a noble idea, but…”

“Ty Lee, please,” he asked, gently. “Whatever you have to say, I promise I’ll listen.”

She slowly worked up the courage to put her words together. “Before... what happened, Azula wasn’t the type of person who took no for an answer. At all. Even in the best of times, even when we were little kids, there was an edge to her. She carried an aura that was white hot, and spiky, and… not the easiest to get along with.”

“But you were friends since childhood. There must have been good moments. Times where you had fun, where you-”

“Yes, but they were just that. Moments. There were fun, amazing times we had, Azula, Mai, and I, but... that didn’t change what happened in the end.”

Aang knew that he risked getting a disappointing answer from each of his friends, but he hid his feelings for Ty Lee’s sake. “I know this can’t be an easy subject to talk about. I understand if you don’t want to be a part of this, or even talk about it if it hurts too much. I just wanted to ask for your wisdom, and to let you know beforehand.”

Ty Lee reached out and pulled Aang into a hug. “I do hope that you can help her, Aang.”

Aang returned the hug. “Thanks, Ty Lee.”

* * *

The sun was setting as Appa made his descent over Ba Sing Se. A crowd had gathered where he landed in the Upper Ring, everyone clamoring to catch a glimpse of the avatar. Aang put on a smile and waved to the crowd, hiding his heavy heart. Sokka, Suki, and Ty Lee had given their consent, but their responses hung heavily on his mind.

 _If I feel this bad now,_ he asked himself, _how am I ever supposed to do this?_

The Jasmine Dragon was packed. The noise of the customers exploded when he walked in. Iroh must have seen right through his pleasant demeanor and came to his rescue. He removed his apron and slung an arm around Aang, leaving the rest of the evening’s business to his staff.

At his apartment, Iroh readied a pot of tea and treated Aang to a game of pai sho. They played for less than a minute before Iroh spoke. “A good game of pai sho can say quite a lot about the person you’re playing with. I suspect you’ve got a lot on your mind. So, what troubles you this time, Aang?”

Aang took a breath. “It’s about Azula.”

He told Iroh of the reports from Doiyasu that had been sent to Zuko, of the doctors’ notes of her progression, of the trial he underwent with Guru Pathik during the war, and how he believed he could help Azula. “She’s been on my mind for so long now, but I haven’t found the chance to do anything. There was always something that needed my attention or my intervention. But, for once, the world’s calmed down for a moment. I’ve been going to see all my friends to get their opinion on the matter, and to let them know I’m doing this beforehand.”

“I imagine the reception hasn’t been too positive.”

He sighed. “Understatement of the century. I’m going to be on Suki’s bad side for a year.”

Iroh took a sip of tea. “To tell you the truth, you’re not the only one who’s had Azula on his mind.”

Aang was surprised. Iroh had never spoken of her before, at least not to him. “Have you talked to her recently?”

“I thought about sending her a message. I even sent a hawk to the island’s head doctor to ask if I could.”

“Did you?”

Iroh shook his head. “To be honest, I’m not sure how Azula would respond to hearing from me again. I want to see her get help, and to make whatever peace I can with her, but I don’t know if I’m the right person to help her right now.”

“You knew Azula all her life. Is there anything you can tell me that I don’t know?”

A smile sprouted on Iroh’s lips. “The first time I held her as a baby, Azula threw up on my robe. Everyone present guffawed at my expense, myself included. Even Ozai chuckled, though perhaps not as innocently as the rest of us.”

Aang couldn’t help but laugh alongside Iroh at his familial anecdote. After his tense conversations with Suki and Ty Lee, any bit of levity he could get was welcome.

But eventually the smile on Iroh’s face faded. “I left for the campaign against Ba Sing Se when she and Zuko were both still small. When I returned, my father was dead, Ozai was fire lord, and only my nephew was happy to see me.”

Aang paused before asking, “Where did it all begin?”

Iroh put his cup down and rested his hands on his knees. “Azula showed an aptitude for firebending at such an early age. Prodigies like that come once in a generation, and every parent and teacher hopes to shape such talent. Ozai was no different. From the moment she bent her first flame, my brother took over her instruction. Ursa had a strong will and a fierce loyalty to those she loved. Those qualities were part of the reason why my father arranged their marriage. But even that wasn’t enough to stop Ozai’s ambition. He saw her as the perfect child, and like all royalty throughout history, he used that to his advantage. Azula was swayed to his way of thinking about the world, and no one could convince her otherwise.

“The only other person to exert any influence over her education was my mother, Fire Lady Ilah. She was the one who had instructed Lo and Li in the arts of firebending and had chosen them to become Azula’s tutors before she passed. As controlling as Ozai was, even he did not object or interfere with this decision.”

“Why do you think that was?” Aang asked.

“Despite the fact that they aren’t firebenders, Lo and Li are two of the wisest teachers in the traditions and techniques of the art. Ozai knew that. But I think the true reason was because, deep down, my brother didn’t wish to go against our mother.”

“What was your mom like?” The question was out before Aang could fully consider it.

Iroh took a breath before speaking. “Certainly not someone you wanted to disappoint. She expected the best from her sons, and she wasn’t generous with compliments. At least to our faces. She dictated nearly every aspect of our lives. Our diets, our wardrobes, our teachers, our lessons, who we could have as friends, where we could go. By the time I was a teenager, she had me by her side whenever she met with vassals, war ministers, or councilors while my father was away on campaign. In some ways, I learned more by her example than I did from his.”

Iroh became silent for a moment, lost in thought. Aang felt he should speak, but he could see in Iroh’s eyes that he wasn’t done speaking. Finally, Iroh continued. “My father was not the warmest of men, even in the best of times. He favored me, but that didn’t make him the type of dad who patted me on the back and said, ‘That’s my boy.’ When mother died, the few smiles he had died with her. After her funeral, when it was just him, Ozai, and I alone drinking tea, he broke his mournful silence in a surprising way. He told us, ‘Your mother always spoke of you boys. Of your progression in your studies and your training. Even of you, Ozai. She was so proud of you both.’ ...that was the last he spoke of her.”

A heavy silence overtook them both, which Iroh eventually broke. “I wonder what she would think of the fate of her sons. What would shock her more: that I run a tea shop, or that Ozai is in prison?”

Aang thought of saying that Ilah might have been proud to know her son helped save the world, but stopped himself. He didn’t know her, and what he knew was that Ilah was of the old Fire Nation. She wouldn’t have seen the Dragon of the West’s greatest victory as something to be proud of.

“If Azula still holds a grudge against me, even subliminally, I don’t believe it is unwarranted. When I saw that my niece was firmly her father’s daughter and would always rebuke my attempts to connect with her, I stopped trying and focused solely on Zuko. After his mother’s disappearance, I was one of the few in his corner. I thought I was doing the right thing at the time, but…”

Aang saw Iroh’s hands tighten, digging into the robes at his thighs. “My brother turned his own daughter into a monster, and I failed to stop him.”

“He was her father, and the fire lord. She was a child, there wasn’t anything you could do-”

“It’s alright, Aang,” he said, raising his hand in a calming manner. “It’s not a wound I’ve left untended. Sometimes you grow accustomed to old scars that it’s only when you focus on one that it seems to hurt.”

“Iroh,” Aang asked, “do you think I can help her? Do you think I should help her?”

Iroh reached across the table and gently took Aang’s hand in his. “Faith in oneself is best, but it is always a treasure when others show that they have faith in you. Helping Azula make peace with herself, and to truly heal from all the pain she has endured, well, that sounds like a job for the avatar to me.”

Aang smiled. But a tinge of uncertainty came to him as a not too distant memory prodded at the back of his mind. “Iroh,” he said, slowly. “There’s one other thing.”

Iroh raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”

Aang hesitated to speak. He hadn’t talked to any of his friends about this, but if there was someone who might have something to say on the matter, who might be able to guide him, it was Iroh. “It’s about a vision I had.”

* * *

Aang, Appa, and Momo landed on an island in the eastern Fire Nation to make camp for the night. Appa and Momo were quick to dig into their dinners and hit the hay, though Aang didn’t share his companions’ appetites or quickness to fall asleep.

“Appa, Momo, do you have any advice for me about how to deal with Azula?”

Appa let out a short, rumbling grunt, while Momo responded with a quick series of chitters before going back to his peach.

“Thanks, guys. That means a lot.”

* * *

Seeking private, individual audiences with the fire lord, his wife, and his mother would have been an impossible task for anyone else. Aang was the exception.

Fire Lady Mai was the first to see him and was relieved to, if only for the brief distraction he could provide from the tediousness of her day. The annoyances of her drab meetings and endless correspondences were only compounded by having to deal with all of it while being three months pregnant. Zuko, ever the overattentive husband and soon to be father, had wanted to clear her daily schedule of work almost immediately after receiving the good news, so as not to put any strain on her or the baby. Mai refused to be coddled, knowing her husband needed her. She might groan or complain in private with family, but she would not shirk from her responsibilities.

Mai’s response to his proposition was quite blunt for one skilled with such sharp weapons. “I’ve read the Doiyasu reports, but I still don’t think that she can be helped, and I think you’re crazy for even thinking you can, Aang.”

However, she was oddly just as encouraging when she added, “Then again, I’m pretty sure that optimism of yours is one of the reasons why Zuko loves you.”

Fire Lord Zuko had been embroiled in a heated meeting with a group of nobles who had the same old issues with officials from the former colonies and delegates from the alliance of nations. He and Aang knew that this was going to be a recurring issue when they first formed the new republic. They agreed in the beginning that Zuko would handle everyone from the Fire Nation who took issue with the alliance, and Aang would speak with dissenters from the rest of the world. This divided their duties 50/50.

The meeting had gone long. Aang would have made an appearance, and was more than willing to speak with those in the Fire Nation who stirred up such discourse, but he feared that his sudden, unannounced entrance into the meeting might have been seen in one of two ways: at best his support of Zuko might be seen as undercutting his authority, as if to say that the fire lord needed the avatar to maintain order, and at worst his presence might be seen as an unspoken threat to those who had brought their issues directly to the Fire Lord.

Upon being free of the nobles, Zuko retired to his chamber, where the sight of Aang instantly lifted the exhaustion from his shoulders. The regal dignity of the fire lord was gone for a moment, replaced by the ecstatic smile of his friend and teacher. As the doors closed behind him, Zuko threw his arms around the avatar and pulled him into a hug.

“Long day, huh?” Aang asked.

A fatigued groan into Aang’s shoulder was Zuko’s only response. 

A pot of tea had been prepared to soothe the headache that the fire lord was undoubtedly suffering from. Zuko sat next to Mai, placing a kiss on her cheek as his left hand rested on her belly. Neither were keen on public displays of affection, so Aang knew they felt just as comfortable around him as they did in private. The small act of paternal love made Aang long for the day he’d see Zuko and Mai as parents. The children of the Air Nomads were raised by their community. Though he was a boy of the Southern Air Temple, Aang and others his age were taken to spend time in the other temples. As a nun of the Western Air Temple once told him, “Just as the world is imbued by the four winds of north, south, east, and west, so too is every child of our people lifted by the four pillars of the Air Nation.” With Kya over a year old now, an heir to the Fire Nation throne on the way, and whatever might come from Toph and Katara’s relationship, Aang was enraptured by the thought of being the fun, flying uncle to so many children.

Mai brought up the topic of conversation first. “So, Aang was telling me of a little plan he had for Azula.”

Zuko clammed up for a moment. “Yes, we have… I’ve been sharing messages from Azula’s doctor with Aang for a while now.”

“I’m moving forward with my plan,” Aang informed him. “I’ve already asked everyone else. Guru Pathik, Bumi, and all of our friends. The only one left to speak to is Lady Ursa.”

Zuko nodded his head, looking downwards. Ursa, who had taken up residence at the royal palace once again after Zuko found her following the end of the war, had been absent from the capital that day, representing her son and the royal family at a nearby religious observance. Aang knew that Azula had… a complicated relationship with her mother, and that it was an ostrich horse of a different color compared to the pitfire of a relationship she and Zuko had with the deposed Ozai.

“Good luck with that conversation, avatar,” Mai said, taking a sip of tea.

“Is there else anything about Azula that I don’t know that either of you can tell me?” Aang asked.

Mai spoke first. “She once put an apple on my head and lit it on fire to trick Zuko into tackling me into a fountain.”

Zuko’s good eye widened. “You remember that?”

“Kind of hard to forget,” she retorted, taking another sip while giving her husband the side eye, if only because an embarrassed Zuko was a hilarious sight.

Aang couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle, but stopped once he saw the look of childhood shame on Zuko’s face turn into one of contemplation. “What…” Zuko spoke, “what else do you need to know?”

“Katara tutored me on waterbending healing techniques, and everyone else is hesitantly on board with the plan, though they all made me promise to make sure that, if I fail and she tries something, I would make sure she can’t hurt anyone.”

Mai put her cup down. “You would take her bending away?”

Aang did not hesitate in his response. “If there is no other way, yes.”

Mai was satisfied with his answer, and let them continue.

Zuko’s answer came slowly and gently, as if the memories were so fragile that they might break if he wasn’t careful in sharing them. “There were moments Azula and I had when we were kids. Times where we weren’t our father’s children. We could play games, laugh with each other. One of the funniest nights we had was after mother took us to see ‘Love Amongst the Dragons’ on Ember Island. The players were terrible, as usual, but it was worth it for all the ways Azula and I mocked them on our way home. We were up so late just because we couldn’t stop quoting the terrible ways the actors delivered their lines, or how the set and costumes looked.”

Aang couldn’t help but share in Zuko’s laughter as he shared the heartwarming memory. It pained him to see Zuko’s smile slowly turn into a sullen frown. “Those times became rarer as we grew older. They were gone after our grandfather’s death.”

“Ty Lee said something similar,” Aang replied, sadly taking a sip of tea.

“Do you really think that you can help her, Aang?”

He nodded, putting aside all fear and doubt. “I do.”

Zuko was silent for a moment, lost in thought. He raised a hand to the center of his chest, gently tugging at his robe. It seemed so long since their first conversation on the matter. Whenever he and Aang spoke of it in the past, it sounded like some dream that was years away from becoming a reality. But now the time was here, and much sooner than either had expected.

On the day of his coronation, Zuko had sworn to remedy a century of violence and hatred that his family and people had unleashed upon the world. With every step he and his friends had taken since then to honor that promise, there had been a part of him that wondered if, perhaps, Azula might share in that peace and redemption one day. Part of him denounced such aspirations as foolish. Azula always lies, after all. What if, despite his best attempts to reach her, she rejected him? Or worse, what if she used his attempt at peace against him and hurt someone he loved? Regardless, Zuko had never allowed his feelings or wants on the matter to cloud his judgment as fire lord. When the first documentation of her improvement had arrived from Doiyasu Island, that wishful seed of hope finally took root within Zuko’s mind. As the scrolls kept coming over the past three years, his desire had grown stronger and stronger. To think that his wish might finally come true, and that Aang would be the key to helping his sister, it all felt too good to be real. 

Finally, a look of resolution came to Zuko’s face as he straightened his posture and held his chin up. In him, Aang saw as much of a king as he did an optimistic brother, and when he spoke Zuko showed both the power and hope that defined each aspect to his character. “Uncle once told me that in the darkest times, hope is something you give yourself. But for so long, you were the one who gave me the hope to keep going. You helped me find the inner strength to give it to myself. If anyone can give hope to Azula, you can.” 

* * *

The preparations were done. Aang had gathered all the wisdom he needed, planned every step of his approach, and had seized the moment when the world didn’t need him. Now, all there was left was to do it. Aang took one last moment to steady himself, taking a slow, deep breath, and opened the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good to be back!
> 
> I never thought my first published piece of ATLA fanfiction would be for azulaang, a ship I only got into this year (thanks to Dr. irresistible-revolution)
> 
> As a disclaimer, this series only incorporates the continuity of the original series. It does not adhere to the comics or to LOK.
> 
> And if you're thinking, "Wait a minute, there are conversations here that are missing. Where's the rest of it?" Don't worry, I've planned ahead and I am a massive slut for flashbacks. After all, most of this first chapter is flashbacks.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> A.F.S.M.A.S.


	2. Proposal

The chamber was quite roomy for having only a single occupant. Though he did not expect much in terms of decoration, Aang took note of the simple, almost bland furnishings. The walls formed an octagonal shape that seemed less personable than the rest of the asylum. Across the floor from the door was a somewhat made bed, which seemed comfortable enough. The small windows were open to let in the breeze but the curtains were drawn, leaving the room dimly lit.

She sat alone at a table with two chairs, a board with marked tiles and movable pieces in front of her. The last time he saw her was on the Day of Black Sun, when she had outwitted them yet again and insured victory for the Fire Nation. That girl was gone, and in her place was a grown woman. Her long, uncombed hair reached down to the small of her back. He knew she was allowed escorted walks through the garden, but her pale skin showed she didn’t take advantage of such opportunities. Years of lacking exercise and a diet of simple meals she hardly touched had left her an almost gaunt figure, her cheekbones and jawline helping to cut a sharp figure. Still, he couldn’t deny that even after all her time spent in confinement, Azula held on to a regal elegance that was to be respected, even admired. When she looked from her game to see who had interrupted her solitude, he saw only a brief flash of surprise in her golden eyes before she regained her composure. Gone was the arrogant, lethal pride that had once come so naturally to her, but there was still a noticeable edge. Something about the way she looked at him brought to mind a close encounter he once had with a viper panther. Both the princess and the beast were calm, studying him closely, but even in a sitting position he could see the power that could snap into a pounce in the blink of an eye. Like the viper panther, looking into her eyes didn’t tell him if, or when, she was going to get hostile.

“Good morning, Princess Azula,” he greeted, bowing at the waist.

Azula was silent for an uncomfortable amount of time. She didn’t move, or even break eye contact. Her words were the only weapon she had, so she would use them and their absence to their full potential. Even if she no longer bore the avatar any ill will, Azula was an untrusting sort. Finally, she turned back to her game, moving a piece across the board. “You’ve grown,” she said.

 _Okay, not the worst way this could have started_ , Aang thought. “What are you playing?”

“Sabitaru. It’s not the most exciting game there is, but it kills time nevertheless.”

Aang took a second glance at the game. He had seen solitary games around the world, but couldn’t help but note that, instead of being made of stone, wood, or metal, the pieces in her hands were made of woven cloth with symbols stitched onto them. She noticed his observation out of the corner of her eye. “They don’t allow me anything I could potentially break and sharpen. Even after all this time as a model patient, they still don’t trust me.”

Aang slowly closed the gap between them, stepping towards the empty chair. “I can think of better games, if you want a second player.”

“What are you doing here, avatar?” she said, her voice more tired than angry.

“To visit you.”

A breath of derisive laughter escaped her lips. She did not look at him as they conversed, keeping her eyes on the game in front of her. “I do not receive visitors. ...did something happen to my brother?”

The tinge of concern in her voice for Zuko’s safety gave Aang some hope. “No. Zuko’s fine.”

“Oh? No rebellions against his rule? No assassination attempts?”

He took the seat opposite her. His silence to her snide questions was enough of an answer.

“The doctors have kept Zuko updated on your progress here. He’s happy to know that-”

“How long have I been here?”

The way she asked left no room to doubt that she knew just how long she’d been on Doiyasu Island. “Almost eight years.”

“Eight years,” she repeated, taking her time with each word, letting them sting. “How time flies.”

“I’ve spoken with your doctors. They tell me you’re doing well, that they’re happy with your improvement.”

Azula made a ‘hmm’ sound, turning a piece between her fingers. “Go too long without hurting or insulting people and suddenly they think that they know you.”

“You should give yourself more credit, Azula. From what I’ve been told, you’ve made a concerted effort to improve.”

Azula sighed. “Get on with whatever it is you’ve come here to say.”

There was no direct antagonism in her tone, but neither was there any sense of patience. Aang saw he could no longer afford to beat around the bush, that he would have to be more direct to reach Azula. “Part of my duty as the avatar is to help the world heal from its injuries.”

She looked up at him as her hands fiddled with another tile. “Is that what I am? A scar you wish to cover up?”

“No. Not cover up. To heal.”

“Heal?”

“I’ve come here to help you, Azula.”

That… that was not the answer she was anticipating. Azula hid her surprise from him, looking back down to her game. “Have you now?” She slid the piece across the board. “Is that your new prerogative, avatar? To provide what you perceive as aid to former enemies? Does that mean you’re also going to visit my father? Help him rehabilitate?”

“No. Your father is the worst.”

She let out an honest laugh to that. Something in Azula told her that she knew she could crack away at his peacemaker facade and discover his true agenda. She pressed a thumb hard against the corner of her forehead to straighten her thoughts. She hated those old instincts, how they cropped up with their unwanted opinions from time to time. Playing such games of manipulation and deception no longer sat well with her, physically or mentally. Dr. Chiyo had told her that self-harm, even in the smallest of ways, wouldn’t help her, and that she shouldn’t punish herself. But sometimes a little pain was necessary, if it was to let her focus, to remind Azula of hard-won lessons, to correct-

“Azula,” he said, his gentle voice shaking her out of her line of thought and bringing her back to reality. Azula lowered her hand and gaze back down to the table, hoping he wasn’t as perceptive as Dr. Chiyo was. It suddenly dawned on her just how often the avatar used her name. His attempts to become personable were slowly getting under her skin, though perhaps that was just her own discomfort due to how he had caught her off guard. 

Aang continued. “I haven’t gone through most of the things that you’ve experienced. But I know what it’s like to walk through darkness. I know hope can hurt more than despair sometimes, that refusing to care about yourself can be more comforting than the alternative. But it’s not a solution. Going down that road will only hurt more in the end.”

She hit him with another silence, a part of her intent on making him feel uncomfortable, but she couldn’t help but contemplate his words. “One of those things is true at least,” she said, brushing away such fleeting introspection.

“Someone I love once saw me become cold. I was ashamed that I had let my pain spiral out into rage, so I cut myself off from my feelings. I thought I was being strong, but I was just running away from my own feelings. She showed me how wrong I was, and made me promise I wouldn’t stop caring.”

“And what have I done to deserve such optimism?” Azula asked. “That you would come all this way to give me a pep talk?”

“I’m supposed to bring balance to the world. I’d be doing a poor job of that if I left parts of my life unbalanced. And even though we’ve never been friends in the past, well… as someone I know once put it, I won’t ever turn my back on people who need me.”

She put down her last tile and finally looked up at him, her posture straightened and her shoulders tensed. “You say that I’ve given up hope. That I’ve cut myself off from caring. What exactly do you think I should be so caring and hopeful about, avatar?”

He hesitated. She could see he knew what he wanted to say, but something caused him to waver. Guilt, perhaps? No. He looked concerned. Before she could cut him off again, he responded, “They tell me that you’re unable to firebend.”

She said nothing at first. The irony of a man whose native element required him to be light on his feet refusing to tiptoe around her greatest shame was not lost on her. Azula didn’t think that the avatar had it in him, to cut to the heart of an enemy’s weakness so ruthlessly. “What of it?” she asked. If her caretakers weren’t so adamant about regularly cutting her fingernails, she would be clawing them into the table.

“I think I can help you regain your bending.”

She leaned back in her seat, studying him in a silence that she once again allowed to linger. Surely he would not be foolish enough to insure the return of her greatest weapon. There must still be dissenters who resented her brother’s peaceful reign that would gladly flock to her call. Though, she knew any rebellion on her part would not survive against the avatar. A living avatar, anyway.

 _What are you thinking?_ a voice of loathing and doubt whispered in her head. _Who would answer your call, failure?_

Azula closed her eyes and took a breath. Time had taught her how to center herself so that she might silence the mutterings of her inner demons and focus on reality. Chiyo’s ramblings had some usefulness at least. “Explain,” she ordered.

“During the war, I met a guru at the Eastern Air Temple. He taught me about the ways that energy flows and gathers in pools within the body. These pools of energy are called chakras. The trial I underwent to unlock all seven chakras is what helped me gain control over the Avatar State.”

She scoffed. “What use do I have for an avatar’s philosophy?”

“Learning wisdom from other cultures can make you stronger and happier than you would be if you learned from only one source. It's wisdom that I’m willing to teach you, if you’re willing to learn. Also, if you say yes, you’ll be able to leave the asylum.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “What makes you think I simply won’t run the first chance that I get?”

With a circular motion of his hands, he conjured a spiraling ball of wind. With a quick jump, he balanced himself atop it, and before she knew it he was moving around the room at a great speed, dashing around her and up the walls and ceiling. He finished by practically flying back into his seat. “I think I can keep up with you,” he claimed, speaking with a sense of amity that, to her, was hardly warranted. “Also, we’ll be on an island where the only means of leaving are flying on Appa or swimming out into an open sea.”

 _Well, at least you’re not a complete fool_ , Azula mused.

There must be a trick. There has to be. Was this a ploy by Zuko? Her loving brother had shared Chiyo and the other’s reports with him. What gave him the right to share her pain, her weakness? _I never should have given Chiyo my blessing to share her reports with him_.

One thought in her head told her not to trust a single thing the avatar had to say. Trust is for fools.

Another told her not to bother. No one could help her. She didn’t deserve help.

A third considered this the opportunity to reclaim her power and begin her path back to her former glory, to the glory of the Fire Nation, to the destruction of- 

Azula closed her eyes, trying to focus. Her fingers pressed uncomfortably hard into a fist. Adamant skepticism would be of no benefit to her. Neither would blind rancor or melancholy. Thoughts of conquest, of proving her superiority over others through ruthless force, lacked the thrill or sense of rightness that they once brought her. Now, they only made her feel uncomfortable and ashamed.

Loathe as she was to admit it, her time at Doiyasu Island had helped her. In some ways, at least. She no longer saw or heard things she knew weren’t real. She could recognize the ways her mind could split her stream of thought into dark waters, and correct herself to avoid dwelling on harmful matters.

But all of the therapy and talking hadn’t restored the one thing that could truly make her the master of her own destiny. Without her bending, Azula was a bird with broken wings, a cat without fangs or claws. Now the avatar, a man who once fell to her in battle, was offering to help restore it.

What did she have to lose?

She stood up, intent on looking down at him. Some old habits died harder than others. “I’ll accept your tutelage, but don’t expect me to call you master, avatar.”

“That’s okay,” he said, smiling. “But it would be nice if you called me Sifu Aang.”

Azula raised an eyebrow in confusion. It was then that she realized, looking into his wide, gray eyes, at his easy smile, that this insufferable hero of the people was about to replace the doctors in the role of her jailer. Azula suddenly felt homesick for the prison that she hadn’t left yet.

* * *

Azula readied herself to leave within the hour. Two aides supervised her, giving her fresh clothes. The armored, royal attire that she wore when her loving brother had shipped her off to the island was long gone, and in its place was a knee length tunic, a sash to tie at her waist, trousers, and a pair of sandals. She frowned at the outfit, but knew that there was nothing she could do about it for now.

The few in the halls they encountered stepped to the side, bowing their heads. Part of her old instincts told her this was a good thing, that these upjumped peasants and lowlife madmen should know the proper fear and respect owed to a Fire Nation princess. Azula did her best to ignore such thoughts. She didn’t care how they viewed her or acted around her. Now, she was just satisfied with leaving.

The avatar was waiting for her at the main gate. By his side was the monstrous bovine that had ushered him and his ragtag group of friends around the world. The beast eyed her suspiciously, letting out a low, rumbling growl as she approached. Its unabashed hostility towards her was more welcome than the avatar’s presentation of hope and friendship. Its growling alerted the lemur, who emerged from hiding to land on the beast’s horns, eyeing her alongside it. In response, the avatar placed a hand on the bison’s head, saying, “Easy, guys. Everything’s okay.”

How such power could be in the hands of one so juvenile was beyond her comprehension. Deep down, it was hard to see the avatar as anything other than that boy she had fought against so long ago. But that boy was gone, and in his place was a man with lean muscles, a strong stance, and an unbreakable air of soft confidence about him. To make it worse, he now stood over half a foot taller than her.

Azula absolutely hated all of it.

Doctor Chiyo, alongside the other doctors, appeared behind her. Chiyo led them in a bow, lowering herself to her knees and pressing her forehead against the back of her outstretched hands. “Princess. It has been an honor to serve you, and we hope we have done our best to treat you. May the spirits watch over you as you embark on this new leg of your journey.”

Azula turned away from them without a word, so the avatar spoke for her. “Thank you, doctors,” he said, bowing. It was more respect than they deserved, though perhaps there were worse healers somewhere in the world.

She grabbed hold of the beast by the fur and tried to pull herself up. The oversized cow bristled at her touch and violently shook her off. Before she could fall to the ground, the avatar caught her. “Easy, Appa,” he chided as one might to a friend or family member. With a quick motion of his free arm, he gently pushed off the ground with a gust, lifting her onto the beast’s back. Azula knew she didn’t weigh much, but she was still surprised at the ease with which the avatar could carry her with one arm, his long fingers curled around her waist. Once safely atop, she wrenched herself free from his grasp and climbed over the luggage the beast had on its saddle and sat as far away from him as possible. The avatar grabbed the reins and let out, “Yip yip!” The ridiculous shout sent the beast flying into the air. Soon, Doiyasu Island was out of sight.

Part of Azula thought _good riddance_ , while another remembered the first time she had actually spoken to Chiyo in earnest, opening up just a crack about some of her burdens. Other cracks in the wall she built up between herself and others opened up over time, even if the wall itself had remained standing. The island had changed her. The only question Azula had was whether it would truly be for the better, or for the worse. Only time would tell.

Less than a minute into their flight, the avatar left his spot and approached her with something in his hands. “Here,” he said, passing her a wrapped parcel. “It’ll be awhile before we reach the island, and we’ll have to stop somewhere once night falls. I figured you’d like to eat before then.”

She unwrapped the cloth to find a pastry as long as her hand and as thick as her fist. An angry, petulant urge told her to look the avatar in the eye and drop it overboard, to let him see what she thought of his niceties. That stream of thought died when the breeze brought the smell of it to her nose. It was still fresh, and had a cherry filling. Her past weakness for cherries and a hunger that she thought she was so good at ignoring made it impossible for her to consider following through with the idea.

 _Fuck it_ , she thought as she began to eat.

“You’re welcome,” he said with that stupid, perfect smile of his before returning to the beast’s reins.

“I’m still 50/50 on strangling you in your sleep, avatar,” she replied between bites.

He laughed at that.

This was going to be a long ordeal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters uploaded within two days?  
> I didn't think I had it in me.
> 
> I have no idea when chapter 3 will be done. Much of it and the rest has already been written, but life and writer's block will undoubtedly interfere with the editing process. I hope I can get them done and ready within a good timeframe.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> A.F.S.M.A.S.


	3. Date Night

As dusk fell, they landed in a grassy clearing past the outskirts of a nearby town.

“What are we doing here?” Azula asked.

The avatar spoke while unloading a bale of hay and a large melon for the bison and lemur. “Appa needs a chance to rest and eat, so we’ll camp here for the night.”

Azula let out a low sigh, laying back down. She thought she’d have a moment to relax, only for the avatar to then land next to her in the saddle. Without a word, he opened a satchel and produced a new set of clothes, setting them out in front of her.

“What’s this for?”

“I figured you would want to dress up for dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“I’ll be doing the cooking during your trial. I thought you might want at least one meal made by a professional cook before we land on the island.”

Azula peered over the saddle, eyeing the town in the distance. “Does that town even have any decent restaurants?”

“Don’t know. I’ve never been here before. There’s another town near here that I know pretty well, but too many people there would recognize me.”

“Let me guess. You made an appearance there during your world tour after the war to show the Fire Nation their conqueror?”

“No, I went there during my journey into the Fire Nation for the invasion. I enrolled into school and held a secret dance party for the other students.”

Azula knew she wasn’t lying. No one could lie to her, she was too good at it herself. She was as insightful as any sage alive, she could outfox a weaselfox. She knew he wasn’t lying. He couldn’t be lying. 

He had to be lying. There was no damn way that it was true.

“You’re joking, right?”

“No. I stole what I didn’t know at the time was a school uniform, they mistook me for a student playing hooky, I spent a couple days at the school learning about how the Fire Nation educates its kids, and then I threw them a secret dance party in a cave to teach them about fun and freedom.”

She stared at him incredulously. “You enrolled into a Fire Nation school, and held a dance party for its students, all while you were traveling in secret for the Battle of Black Sun?”

He nodded. Azula was almost left speechless. “How are you alive? How did an entire military fail to stop or kill you?”

The avatar gave her a smile and a shrug. “What can I say? I was either too quick, too clever, or too charming for them to ever hold me for long.”

Azula rolled her eyes, then glanced down at the second outfit. It was as much a peasant’s garb as the first, but Azula could see a Fire Nation citizen wearing it for a special occasion. It consisted of a cotton kimono with a red body and white sleeves, a customary obi sash, zori sandals, and tabi socks.

“You seriously intend to take me out to dinner?”

“I’ll let you get dressed on Appa,” he said before leaping off with a gust of wind, another satchel tucked under his arm.

It was not in her nature to change clothes outside in the middle of a field atop a giant sky beast, but many of the changes in her life caused her to go against her nature. With the moment of privacy presented to her, Azula also seized the opportunity to look into the other bags to see what he had packed. Without digging so thoroughly that he would’ve noticed her investigation, she found camping supplies, clothes, tools, and enough rations to last them for two months, including onions, bananas, and pickles.

_What exactly are you planning?_

It didn’t take her long to get changed. Now all that was left was to get down from the massive creature. The saddle had no robe or ladder. Was she supposed to slide off the tail? Was she supposed to jump? Neither sounded like an appealing idea, particularly in the outfit the avatar had chosen for her. Azula stepped over the luggage and off of the saddle, carefully maneuvering her footing on the dense fur and muscle between the bison’s neck and hump. The bison let out an unsettled grunt. “If you even think of shaking me off again, beast...” she threatened. He retorted with a short growl. Azula crouched down, grabbed onto two handfuls of fur, and slowly stretched her leg over the side to get down. The bison seemed content, until he changed his mind and shook his body. Azula couldn’t maintain her awkward grip and fell to the ground with a thud.

With a snarl of her own, Azula shot back up on her feet and exclaimed, “You’re awfully bold for a member of an endangered species!”

The sky bison turned to look straight at her, baring his teeth as he let out a longer, louder growl. Suddenly, without backup or firebending, Azula was aware of just how large he was, and of just how small she felt in that moment.

“Are you two getting along?”

The avatar was quick to come to her rescue, gently petting the bison’s head to calm him down. His disguise was a typical outfit for a Fire Nation man, with multi-layered robes colored red and brown, with long sleeves to hide the arrows on his arms. The only aspect that stood out was the turban he wore to cover the arrow on his head.

“Would you like some help?” he asked, gesturing to her hair.

She took a step away from him, covering her hair with her hands. “It’s a simple task, avatar. I don’t need you to coddle me.”

“I didn’t offer because I didn’t think you could do it. I offered because I wanted to.”

Azula glared at him, then took an obvious glance at his bald head. “And how would you know how to braid hair?”

The comment bounced off of him without effect, like a pebble thrown against a warship. “I spent time with Air nuns as a kid who showed me what to do, and Air Nomad men are very meticulous with their beards and mustaches. I’ve braided Katara’s hair, Toph’s hair. Heck, I even got Sokka to show me how to give someone a warrior’s wolf tail.”

“So, in addition to learning the four elements, you’ve also learned each nation’s hairstyle. Wonderful.”

The avatar gave her a big smile, “It’s like I said. Learning wisdom from other cultures can make you happier.”

Azula let out another groan as she tied her hair into a simple ponytail.

As they left the bison and lemur behind, the avatar said to her, “If anyone asks, tonight my name is Lee.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“We’re in disguise, Azula. We should use aliases.”

She groaned. The avatar truly seemed to have an endless amount of games to play. Still, it made sense from a tactical view to remain incognito. “Fine. For tonight, my name is... Michi.”

“Michi?”

“It’s the name of a nursemaid I had as a kid.”

He smiled. “That’s nice.”

“She tripped on a set of stairs in the palace and broke her neck in the fall.” 

The words were out of Azula’s lips all of a sudden, without thought. The avatar’s tongue was caught by the awkwardness she had let out into the air. “I’m so sorry,” he managed to say.

Azula sighed, at herself instead of him. “It’s nothing. I barely remember her. She died when I was five, I just couldn’t think of another name off the top of my head.”

“No, no, it’s fine! It’s a lovely name-”

“Spare me, avatar.”

* * *

The restaurant wasn’t too far from their landing site, though it still felt like a prolonged walk. The avatar had offered his arm, which she begrudgingly accepted. _Just to avoid any suspicious glances_ , she thought. Azula had never visited this town before, but she wanted to avoid recognition at all costs. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, the two of them were just an ordinary couple on a night out.

“You look beautiful tonight, by the way.”

“Don’t push your luck, avatar.”

Once there, he chose a table for two on the patio. Azula ate slowly, which only agitated her hungry stomach. She had become so accustomed to a lack of appetite, which was only partially due to the simplicity of Doiyasu’s cuisine, that the avatar’s offer of a rich meal was overwhelming. Even if they were peasant dishes, the smell and taste of the food made Azula want to indulge herself. Some memory of Chiyo saying something about self care or whatever played in the back of her mind, but Azula could not bring herself to quicken her pace.

The avatar ate slowly as well, though not out of habit. Instead, it was because he wanted to talk. He asked her if she liked her food, if the clothes he picked out were okay, if there was something else he could do for her, and so on. Azula eventually took control of the conversation, turning it towards something she actually wanted to know. “So, care to tell me what’s been going on in the world?”

He wore his surprise clear as day. “The healers never brought in news to you?”

“No. Patients at Doiyasu Asylum are kept rather shielded from the outside world. Supposedly it’s to keep us from becoming stressed, and to focus our energies on our personal recovery.”

His response was the last thing she expected. “Zuko and I founded a fifth nation.”

Azula’s eyes widened. “A fifth nation?”

“Shortly after the war, there was a dispute over the fate of a large area of Fire Nation colonies in the northwestern Earth Kingdom. Our compromise was to unify the lands as a new republic. Peoples from all nations will be able to live there.”

The little tyrant she once was would have been infuriated at the news, but Azula did her best to suppress those old instincts. “How… nice.”

“The capital city won’t be ready for many years, but I hope you’ll see it someday.”

“I doubt anyone is going to want the former princess of the Fire Nation to visit this new symbol of world peace.”

“If you visited in peace, I don’t see anyone objecting.”

 _That’ll be the day_ , Azula thought. “And what of you, avatar?”

“What about me?”

“You and my brother have made a fifth nation, but what about yours? Surely you wanted to restore that before making a new country.”

The avatar, of course, responded with a joke before actually answering her question. “Well, a lot of people were threatening to kill each other, so the colony issue was pretty pressing. But I’m happy to say that there’s actually been a resurgence of interest in Air Nomad cultures. I’ve had people from the Water Tribe, the Earth Kingdom, and even the Fire Nation follow me to become acolytes. We’ve even started the work to restore the Southern Air temple.”

Azula had only seen one of the Air temples, and that was when she was attacking it. “And what of the heart of your culture?”

“Our sense of humor? I’ve been telling the acolytes plenty of jokes.”

 _Don’t play games with me, avatar_. “I was referring to airbending.”

He was silent for a moment. Finally, the avatar broke eye contact, looking down at his meal with a subtle sadness staining his smile. “I’m still the only airbender,” he told her before taking another bite of his food.

Part of Azula, a part that no amount of time in that wretched asylum could fully crush, whose tendencies and attitudes were not so easily unlearned, thrilled at the pain she just inflicted, almost bringing a smile to her face. The moment that old sensation of satisfaction hit her, she felt sick to her stomach. _What am I doing?_ Azula asked herself. _What good would it do me to sadden him?_ She dug the nail of her thumb into her index finger out of the avatar’s sight, just for the small amount of pain it caused her. _Not even one day out of Doiyasu, and I do something like this_. Azula felt the urge to apologize, part of her needed to. The words made it to the base of her throat, but she stopped herself. _What good would an apology from you be?_ her guilt asked of her. Azula sunk into her seat, her shame growing with the tightening feeling in her gut, and hid her face behind her cup as she drank.

Their waiter returned, asking Aang, “Excuse me, sir. Would you or your girlfriend care for dessert?”

The damn fool had to come just as she was drinking her tea, most of which suddenly wound up in her nose, and from there onto her lap. She could feel the eyes of the entire room on her as she erupted into a fit of coughing, her nose, throat, and legs burning. To add insult to injury, the avatar quickly handed her a napkin, helping her dab away the tea. Anyone else would have meant for the gesture to be patronizing, but no. She could see in his eyes that he was being genuinely considerate towards her. Even after what she just said to him, the prying, manipulative side of her lashing out at him, he still showed concern for her. That was too much for Azula to bear.

“No,” she snapped at the waiter. “We’re not staying for dessert.”

“I’ll take three egg custards to go, please.”

* * *

Azula, humiliated and miserable, quietly brewed as they left the restaurant. The avatar, with his desserts hanging in a bag at his hip, had the good sense to leave her be.

For a time at least. Then he opened his big mouth. “I overheard that there’s going to be a show in the public square tonight. Part of the revival of pre-war Fire Nation dances. Would you want to-”

“No.”

“Alright, that’s fine. It’s a nice night out. An evening stroll would-”

“I want to go back to the bison.”

“As you wish.”

No matter what she threw at him, no matter how plainly belligerent she was, nothing was getting through to him. He wasn’t even annoyed at how much she kept shooting down his attempts to bond with her. Not even her own mother could be so patient with her. 

“How much did you tip that man?” she asked, annoyed.

“Two silvers and a gold piece.”

“That’s over half of what you paid for the food!”

The avatar shrugged. “Zuko makes sure to give me Fire Nation currency whenever I visit.”

Azula rolled her eyes at him. “They probably would have given it to you for free if they knew who you were.”

“The food was great, and our waiter was nice. I like supporting local businesses wherever I go. Besides, I wouldn’t want to abuse my status as the avatar that way.”

“What good is power if you don’t use it to its fullest privileges?” she challenged.

“What good is power if you don’t use it to make people happy?” he countered.

“Ha!” she scoffed. “Is that one of the lessons your monks taught you as a child?”

His smile took on a great pride as he replied, “Yes. It is.”

She looked away from him, letting out a low groan. Getting under his skin was impossible. “Well, I’m sure they’d be glad to know they raised such a paragon.”

“Thank you, Azula.”

Her frown gave way to surprise. She looked at him to see a warmhearted smile on his face and gratitude in his eyes. She quickly looked away from him, asking herself how he had taken it well. She didn’t think the comment through before saying it, it was just off the cuff. She didn’t think her voice sounded complimentary. “You’re… welcome,” she told him, accepting her unexpected luck.

* * *

The bison and lemur were both asleep by the time they got back. The avatar didn’t bother setting up a tent, and just grabbed a pair of sleeping mats, pillows, and blankets. He took the liberty of setting them both up, a few yards apart from each other. At least he knew to give her some space while they slept.

“Good night, princess,” he said cheerily.

She replied with a low ‘hmm’ sound.

Azula tossed and turned for another two hours, unable to keep her eyes closed for long. She had gone to bed every night for the past eight years with the last sight being the unlit stone and wood of Doiyasu’s roof. Now, for the first time, she could look up and know she slept under an endless starry sky. She could look up and know she was free from that place. So why couldn’t she get comfortable?

When Azula finally closed her eyes, it was only to be ambushed by a nightmare.

* * *

She stood in front of the towering arch of the main gate of Doiyasu Asylum. The pink wood was stained by dust and broken in several places, ruining the words written on them into, “The… flame sought… on … night.” Morbid curiosity compelled Azula forward up the stairs and past the stone courtyard. An unnaturally gray, cloudless hung above her, watching her every step. She gently pushed on the front door, which crumpled into splinters at her touch.

The marble floors beneath her were cracked and broken. The wooden walls and ceiling around and above her were crumbling, infested with insects eating them from the inside out. The gardens she had never explored were gone, with nothing but burned earth remaining. The ponds were dried up, with little bones scattered around them. The other patients, the guards, and the healers were gone. She was the only living soul in the place. Not even the sound of the wind kept her company. And yet a voice that chilled her bones called out to her, _Come back, princess_.

Azula spun around to see who had spoken, and saw only an empty hallway. What little sanity she had screamed at her to leave, but she pushed her way further into the asylum.

The dark halls which should have been familiar to her now seemed a daunting labyrinth. There was no real light to guide her way, but some of her surroundings were stained with a morose gray texture, giving her just enough acuity to keep moving. She turned another corner, and found herself at the beginning of a long passage that ended with a red door, which she recognized as the entrance to the last room she occupied at the asylum.

The shadows blanketing the decay around her spoke again, and this time Azula recognized that it did so with a distorted but undeniable version of her own voice. _This is where you belong_.

“No,” she said, so quiet she almost couldn’t hear herself.

 _Come back_. The creaking of the wooden door before her rang in her ears, and from inside it came the sound of muffled screaming.

Her screaming.

_Come back-_

“NO!”

Azula turned away, running as fast she could back the way she came.

 _You can never leave_ , the asylum told her.

Her ears were bombarded with the sounds of her panting breath and panicked steps, the bugs crawling through the wood, the loose stones moving beneath her. The spots of pale gray she used to navigate were gone, and in their place warm blood oozed from the foundations of the earth. The screaming from the red door had grown louder and louder, even as she ran further and further away from it. The sound was all around her, coursing through the wood and stone and blood. Her screams were going to eat her alive.

By the grace of whatever spirit watched over, Azula found the entrance. She burst through it only to lose her balance, falling face first into the courtyard. As she raised herself to her hands and knees, a pair of white shoes stepped into view. She looked up to find Dr. Chiyo, who had watched over and cared for her for the last three years of her stay. The healer had always been so patient and respectful, even when Azula gave her reason not to be. Chiyo was the one who had cracked through the walls Azula built around herself. She was the only reason Azula had progressed at all during her time at Doiyasu, and Azula knew that.

But there was none of the familiar warmth in Chiyo’s eyes now. Just an icy glare. Before Azula could ask what was wrong, Chiyo spoke, “I’m so disappointed in you, Azula.”

Suddenly, two massive attendants appeared behind her. Before Azula could move or make a sound, they seized her arms, dragging her back towards the entrance. She kicked, screamed, tried to run, but she couldn’t free herself. She had grown so weak. There was nothing she could do as they forced her over the threshold. Slowly, the shadows of Doiyasu crept over skin, and as they slid over her eyes, her whole world went black.

Azula woke violently. Sweat stained her skin, her breath was deep and ragged. She looked off to the side, and was just able to make out the outlines of her company through the dark of night, each still sleeping and unmoving. Grateful that they hadn’t woken to witness her fear, she sunk back beneath her blanket. “Just shut up,” she said under her breath, trying to silence the noise racking her brain, the intrusive thoughts that told her that she didn’t deserve a good night’s rest. “Shut up.”

* * *

The next time she woke up, she saw clouds above her.

Too closely above her.

Azula raised her head, discovering she was atop the bison’s saddle. _How?_ she asked herself. How had she been able to sleep through the avatar carrying her onto the saddle and then through the bison’s take off? Azula could only imagine what she looked like as she slept. A pathetic mess.

She found him sitting atop the bison’s head with the reins in his hand and the lemur by his side. “Good morning, Azula,” he greeted, looking over his shoulder at her.

“What time is it?”

“Almost noon.”

“Noon,” she repeated. Throughout her time on Doiyasu Island, Azula never did quite have what passed for a normal sleep routine, the healers’ best efforts to correct that notwithstanding. But it still had been some time since she last slept through half the day.

“We’ll be at the island within the hour,” he announced. “I saved you some breakfast in the bowl next to you.”

Beneath the lid of the bowl, Azula found an assortment of fresh fruit, rice, flatbread, and honey. He had another surprise for her. “I’m sorry about last night. If I made you uncomfortable in any way, I apologize.”

She looked back at the avatar, who had turned his attention back to the air in front of him. For a moment, Azula could only stare at him in disbelief. “A sane person would demand an apology from me for last night,” she told him.

“And if you want to, I’ll accept it. But I’m the avatar.” She could hear the friendly smile on his face when he spoke. “I never claimed to be sane.”

Azula sighed, suppressing a yawn. The more time she spent with him, the avatar proved just how unlike he was from every other man she had ever met. The only person who had ever remained so upbeat around her and put up with so much from her was Ty Lee, and Azula remembered how that relationship ended. She quietly placed the bowl in her lap, poking at it with her chopsticks.

“You’re not alone, Azula,” he said, his gentle voice gliding through the air between them, softly landing in her ears. “I know I’m not the person you expected, or even wanted to come to you at that asylum. I know I’m asking a lot of you, and that you don’t have much reason to trust me. A leap of faith may seem too much, and what I’m offering may seem impossible, but I promise that I have every hope that you can do this. I believe that you can get better.”

Azula hung her head, his words echoing in her brain. “Just keep flying, avatar,” she said as she started to eat the breakfast he prepared for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There have been worse first dates.
> 
> I'm usually not a fan of movies and shows using a joke to immediately break the tension after a dramatic scene (Marvel movies are the biggest offenders with this trope), and this draft has been through a few revisions, but I liked referencing that joke from "Tales of Ba Sing Se" too much and wanted that bit of Aang helping her, so I kept it. Let me know what you think, did I handle it well?
> 
> Hey, you wanna know how to make your own horror writing scary to you? Listen to Ennio Morricone's score for John Carpenter's "The Thing" while writing it. I actually had to pause it and play some Hu songs just to calm me down (and yes, that music is so spine chilling that Mongolian metal is actually comforting compared to it).
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> -A.F.S.M.A.S.


	4. Earth

“There it is, Azula!”

Azula peered over the bison’s saddle to see the approaching land. The island formed the shape of a crescent moon, but the feature that drew Azula’s eye was the dormant volcano at its center. Veins of gray basalt against the darker stone surrounding it showed where lava once ran down into the ocean below.

“You intend to help me heal on an island with a volcano?” she asked.

“I know it looks dangerous, but I fixed it up a bit before going to get you. The volcano hasn’t erupted in years. Not since Roku and I used it to destroy the old temple.”

Azula shrugged. The people of the Fire Nation, from royals to peasants, had built their settlements in the shadows of volcanoes since they first learned the art of firebending. “I suppose it’s a fitting location to restore my firebending.”

“That’s the spirit!”

They landed on a spot of the shoreline of the back of the island, the only part of it that had a beach. Black sand stretched to their left and right, surrounded by dark cliffs. Towering above them in the distance was the volcano. Even for the small size of the island, it cut an impressive figure. Azula had never been to the island before, but she had sailed by it twice in the past. Once, as a little girl, her father pointed out the fire sage’s temple to her, telling her how it had stood for centuries. Some called it the Flame of the East, whose burning light showed the power and wisdom of the Fire Nation, and struck fear into the very heart of the western Earth Kingdom. The second time was shortly after her father assigned her the task of capturing Zuko and Iroh. The temple was gone, and in its place was the volcano’s smoke and the glowing lava that ran down the belly of the crescent. People said the avatar had destroyed it, using the flaming rock to bring the building down, and to get past her brother and the recently departed Admiral Zhao.

Azula looked to the avatar, who had begun to unpack their luggage. What would that fourteen year old have thought if she knew that the first time she would set foot on the island would be in the company of the very man who had once wrecked it. She knew it would be something along the lines of _“Get him! Strike him down! Do it!”_ but Azula had long strived to let go of those ways, even as they tried to hold on to her.

This time, Azula leapt down from the saddle rather than have the avatar carry her or risk the bison throwing her off. “I want to get started immediately, avatar.”

“We will. But first, we make camp.”

Aang unloaded the tents into two spots roughly thirty feet apart. Azula began setting hers up, and was at it for a few minutes before the avatar rejoined her.

“You’ve never pitched a tent before, have you?” he asked

“A princess does not bother herself with such labors!” Azula defensively protested. “She has others to do them for her!”

Aang raised his hands in a pacifying manner. “Well, never too late to learn.”

She let out a long groan as the avatar began demonstrating how to properly set up a tent. Aang ended up having to correct some of her efforts due to her rushing through them, which would have resulted in a tent that would have collapsed on her in the middle of the night. The end result was two tents, each big enough for two to sleep in.

Aang placed two bags within Azula’s tent before seeing to his own. Inside them Azula found a few combs and brushes for her hair, some snack bags, and the rest of the clothes the avatar had brought for her. Among them was a red bikini, not too dissimilar from ones she had worn as a teenager. Azula chuckled at the sight of it. “Does he expect me to join him for a fun day on the beach?”

Then she thought it over.

“Oh, spirits, he is going to want to have a beach day with me!”

* * *

Azula chose to wear a crimson robe that reached her knees with a yellow sash tied at her waist, a sleeveless, black jacket with an orange trim along the chest and shoulders, maroon trousers, and a pair of thick leather shoes.

When she emerged from her tent, the avatar was seated at the campfire he had prepared, located between their tents. He had changed into a similar outfit that he wore the last time she saw him during the war, one that left his arms and the right side of his chest bare.

“I want to get started immediately, avatar,” she demanded.

“Very good! But first, we drink,” he proclaimed, holding out one of two bowls to her. She took it from him, and nearly gave it right back when she caught a glance and sniff of the bowls’ contents.

“What is this!?”

“Onion and banana juice, with a hint of pickles,” he answered before taking a drink from his own bowl. The description alone made Azula want to vomit.

“No person in their right mind would drink this filth!”

“Well, considering that the chakras deal with the things that trouble our minds, along with our bodies and souls, I guess you’re right! No one in their right mind would drink it!”

She groaned as he laughed at his own joke. She knew he would continue his attempts at humor with her, but she did not expect them to keep being so grating. Azula looked back down at the yellow sludge and winced. “You can’t expect me to actually drink this.”

“Alright then,” he said, slowly reaching for her bowl. “I guess if you don’t have the stomach for it...”

Azula was offended by how obvious his ploy was. Perhaps this was part of the test. So long as this trial of his could restore her firebending, there was nothing she would not do. She closed her eyes and downed the sludge in one go. It was so awful that she wanted to puke, but she refused to stop drinking until the bowl was empty. As soon as the sludge oozed down past her throat, she tossed the bowl away. “You’re making me miss the meals I had in the asylum!”

He chuckled in that infuriating way of his. “I didn’t care for it my first time either.”

* * *

Using a combination of earthbending and waterbending, the avatar formed a series of seven connected pools descending from the top of the cliffside that surrounded them to just above the reef, and filled them with water.

“Azula,” he asked, “what can you tell me about chakras?”

She sighed. “I don’t know anything about chakras.”

“That’s okay,” he said, smiling. “I had no idea either when Guru Pathik asked me that question.” Aang moved his hands around, generating a flow of water that ran through and spun around in each pool. “Water flows through the stream, just like chi flows through the body. It collects and swirls around in each pool before moving through the channels into the other pools. Each pool is like an individual chakra.”

The avatar’s mention of chi brought to Azula’s mind a conversation many years ago when Ty Lee had first learned the martial art of chi blocking and had obliged her order for an explanation. Azula had paid attention with the objective of understanding Ty Lee’s new abilities so that, if and when the need ever arose, she could use Ty Lee to fulfill her own purposes. Azula eventually did just that during the hunt for her uncle, brother, and the man who stood before her now. The memory faded as Azula observed the demonstration happening in front of her more closely.

Though the avatar had shown his gift of speech to her before, he now spoke of a matter that didn’t concern her, her past recovery, or her potential further recovery, so there was no random, obtrusive thought of self-loathing or resentment in her mind to interrupt her concentration, and no reason for her to give in to her guarded, untrusting nature. Without such things clouding her judgment, Azula could fully take note of not just how gentle the avatar’s confidence was, but the solid foundation from which he spoke on. _Did he always sound this way?_ Azula wondered, trying to compare her memory of his voice as a child to the deeper timbre of the man he was now. The avatar’s nature may have been to teach the world his wisdom with a friendly smile and a familiar tone, but she could see he commanded that wisdom with a stalwart strength that could endure any resistance that the world might throw at him. Despite her skepticism for the avatar’s metaphysical philosophy, she recognized the passion and focus he showed to her perfectly suited the qualities that Azula had once been taught were present in the best of firebenders. As he moved his arms to bend the water through the pools, Azula took note of the smoothness of his motions as he went through the technique, and of the way his biceps looked as he did so. Azula caught herself and shook her head, getting the observations out of her mind and refocusing on what he was saying.

“Normally, the energy flows peacefully. But life is messy,” Aang continued, “and things tend to fall in the stream.” With a shift of his legs and a raise of his fist, a collection of sand, stones, and seaweed he had collected launched into the first pool he created. The debris drifted down into the next pool, only to catch at the exit, causing the water to turn dirty and stagnant.

“If left alone, the water will never flow properly, and the muck that falls in will stay. But, if we have the clarity to recognize the muck that has fallen in and blocked our chakras, and have the bravery to do the work to remove the muck, then...” Aang took his staff and stuck the end of it into the exit, loosening the blockage. The water flowed again, washing out the debris he had thrown in. “The energy can flow healthily, restoring the balance of the entire stream.”

“You talk like you’re a healer who’s trying to become a poet,” Azula remarked.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

* * *

Aang led her inland, where he opened up a tunnel into the earth and guided her in with a lit lantern. Though they didn’t travel far underground, the heat from the nearby volcano was pressing, but Azula found it almost comforting. She had come to restore her own fire, and felt a certain kinship with the power of the island. She was ready for whatever challenge nature had to throw at her.

The avatar formed a small cavern at the end of his tunnel. He placed the lantern on the floor between them, sat, folded his legs, and placed his hands together, bidding her to do the same. Azula had never meditated before, so she needed him to show her how it was done.

He explained, “The body has seven chakras. Each chakra has a purpose, and is blocked by a specific emotion. Before we begin, you must know that opening the chakras is an intense experience. During this trial, you will delve deep into your past, all the pain you have endured, and all of the turmoil that burdens you. Once you begin, you cannot abandon this trial until you unlock all seven chakras. Are you ready?”

Azula gripped her knees tightly, giving him a steeled look. “I’m ready to do whatever it takes, avatar.”

And so they began. “The first in the chain is the Earth chakra, located at the base of the spine. It deals with survival, and is blocked by fear.”

“I’m a princess of the Fire Nation,” Azula casually asserted. “I have never felt fear.”

“Everyone is afraid sometimes.”

“I am not everyone.”

Aang’s voice remained calm, but took on a sterner tone that she hadn’t heard from him recently. “Focus, Azula. Be honest with yourself. What are you most afraid of?”

As she focused, Azula’s memories became visions so real that she felt as if she was there all over again.

She briefly saw her recent confrontation with the bison, whose growl shook her to the core. Without her bending and without the avatar’s intervention, there was nothing she could have done to defend herself from him.

With a flash the vision was gone, replaced by another. She saw herself facing her brother atop an airship. A collided fire blast between them sent them flying off, falling into the chasm below. Azula knew how this was going to end. She would propel herself to the cliff side and use her hair piece to get a footing onto the rock. The vision ended before that, leaving Azula with the memory of that fleeting moment when she thought she wouldn’t make it, that her story would end at the bottom of that chasm.

Another flash. Now she was a girl, and it was her first time bending lightning. Lo and Li had said that she was too young, too fresh with the form for a full execution of the technique, but Azula insisted. Once her father heard of the matter, Lo and Li had no choice but to let her go through with it. It started out perfectly, just as Azula expected of herself, as Fire Lord Ozai expected of her. As he always expected of her. Then, the bolt she had formed began to flicker, splintering. The smaller bolts were sparking around her, stabbing at her legs and chest. She was losing control. _“Focus,”_ she heard her younger self say. When the time came for the final movement, a dynamic thrust of her fingers in the direction she wanted to bend the lightning, what followed her hand was a few sparks of electricity followed by an explosion. Though small, the surprise of the blast sent her stumbling backward, falling to the ground.

 _“As expected, my lord,”_ she heard Lo say. _“The princess is a prodigy, but she is still too young.”_

Her younger self looked up to the sidelines where her teachers and father stood. He wore his displeasure plainly in the way he glared at his fallen daughter. It didn’t matter by the end of the week that she had gotten the technique down, and was soon bending lightning with ease. It didn’t matter that she had heard him say to her, _“Now that’s what I expect of you, Azula.”_ She had never forgotten that single moment of failure, and the anger she saw in her father’s eyes.

Another flash, and Azula thought she was back in the cavern. But the lantern was gone, and so was the avatar. Suddenly, a deafening bolt of lightning crashed down in front of her. The force of it shook her, its light blinding her. When she regained her vision, the world around her had been ignited, and in the roaring flames she saw the towering figure of her father, dressed in the red and gold armor he wore upon his ascension to Phoenix King. For the first time since her childhood, she saw the merciless look in his eyes that he so often used on others, now fixated on her. As the fire grew closer, Azula instinctively pushed her hands out to steady the flames and keep them at bay, but they did not obey her. She had no bending to protect herself from the wildfire. She had nothing to protect herself from him.

“Azula!” she heard the avatar’s voice call to her, sounding as if he was far away. “These are visions. Memories of your past experiences that deal with the Earth chakra. They aren’t real.”

Azula forced her eyes open. The cavern, the lantern, and the avatar were back. She reached out to grab hold of the earth around her, trying to steady herself. She was breathing heavily, and could feel the sweat on her forehead.

“My father… demanded the best,” she said, astounded at her own bluntness. “I learned quickly not to disappoint him. It’s what made me smarter than Zuko.”

“His expectations were abominable,” Aang gently replied. “You were a child, his child. It was wrong of him to treat you and Zuko that way.”

“...it was,” she said.

“But he can’t hurt you anymore.”

“He can’t hurt anyone anymore. You saw to that.” Azula was stunned. No doctor, not one, over the course of her eight years at Doiyasu Asylum had ever gotten her to open up about her father. She didn’t talk about him, his lessons, his expectations, anything. Yet, despite it all, one day on the island with the avatar made her open that door she locked long ago and let out all the pain and turmoil held within.

Aang bowed his head to her. “My mentor, Monk Gyatso, once told me that it wasn’t the absence of fear that made someone brave, but that it was its presence that gave people the chance to be brave in the first place. Be brave, Azula.” He looked her in the eye. “Don’t let your fears get in the way of you living your life. Surrender your fears. Let them flow away.”

Azula stared at him a moment, hesitating. Finally, she closed her eyes again and slowly resumed the form that the avatar showed her. In the dark space, the vision of her father and the flames came to her again. For a moment he lingered, and Azula feared she would break under the weight of his hateful gaze. _Focus_ , she told herself. _You are not weak. You are not a failure. He does not control you anymore_. She slowly inhaled through her nose, and as she exhaled the vision of the deposed Fire Lord Ozai, the fires he had ignited, and the pain and pressure she felt at the base of her spine disappeared.

In their place, Azula saw the dark stone around her, the light of the lantern, and the avatar, who was smiling from ear to ear.

“You did it!” he exclaimed with a more ecstatic tone than the sagely one he had just used. “You opened your Earth chakra!”

Azula breathed slowly, doing her best to appear in control. “Are all of the chakras going to be like this?”

“Yes. As I said, it’s going to be an intense experience.”

She steeled herself, holding her chin up high. “Teach me the next one.”

He smiled at her. The sight of it was slightly less annoying than it was before. 

Slightly.

“We’ll go into the next chakra soon,” he said. “First, let’s go get a drink.”

* * *

Thankfully, the avatar had prepared them a pot of tea so that she could more easily stomach the next bowl of onion and banana juice.

“How many more times do I have to drink this filth?” she asked.

“To be on the safe side,” he replied, “six more chakras, six more bowls.”

She let out a pained moan, burying her face in her hands. “Anything to get my fire back,” she told herself. “Anything to get my fire back.”

The two sat in silence for a moment, drinking their tea and their juice. _Just tell him_ , a thought in her head told her. The idea of saying it to him first came to her as they left the tunnel, but other parts of her mind told her not to do it, to keep her mouth shut. Her brain played out all kinds of scenarios where she would mess up and ruin it, or alienate him, or something worse. But if the Earth chakra was blocked by fear, it only made sense to Azula not to give it to her anxiety and just tell him what she wanted to say.

She confessed, “When they first told me that my father had been defeated, I initially assumed that meant you had killed him.”

The avatar was caught off guard for a moment, but then responded, “A lot of people thought that was how it was going to end. But an unlikely teacher showed me another way.”

“Your guru?”

“No. A lion turtle.”

Azula’s eyes widened, her jaw almost dropped. “There haven’t been lion turtles in this world for millennia. Some people think they never really existed.”

He nodded, a nostalgic half-smile on his face. “One came out of hiding. I told them the dilemma I faced, and they gave me the power to save the world while staying true to my people’s beliefs.”

Azula looked away from him for a moment. Since her fall, Azula had grown apprehensive of the idea of over-sharing with someone. She was taught from a young age to keep her cards close to her chest, so that no one could sabotage her plans. Even with Chiyo, Azula had only told certain truths bit by bit. However, despite the remnants of her old instincts keeping her on edge around him, Azula felt that if she could take the risk of speaking with someone about her inner turmoil, it was him.

“I once had nightmares of you doing the same thing to me. Of taking my firebending away. In those dreams, I was running through the palace, shouting for the guards, for Ty Lee and Mai, for my father. No one answered me. I was completely alone. Then the walls crumbled around me, and there you were, hovering above me with glowing eyes. I tried to defend myself, but there was nothing I could do. You bound me to the earth and seized my throat. All I could do was watch as your free hand wrapped around my face and take my bending away.”

She saw the shock and grief on his face, for he wore it plainly. He bowed his head, as if he was the one who should regret her words. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to make you feel that way.”

Azula let out a breath of bitter laughter. “Only you would apologize for the dreams of a madwoman.”

“You’re not mad, Azula. You’re not the same person you used to be.”

That had been one of Chiyo’s lessons. Self-deprecation would only further her misery. If she wanted to heal, to make peace with herself, she would need to treat herself like a person worthy of love and respect. Azula saw that the avatar would agree with her old healer, and wouldn’t permit her to disparage herself. “You’re awfully confident that you know me.”

“Once, all I knew about you was that you were a beautiful princess trying to capture me, that you were a dangerous, intelligent firebender, and the few things Zuko told me. Now, I know so much more. You’ve shared your fears, past and present, and you shared your love of cherry pastries. We had an unorthodox start, but I think we’ve made good progress together.”

There were a few choice words in his statement that didn’t go unnoticed, but Azula had a far more pressing question than to delve deeper into his phrasing. “Would you ever do it?” she asked.

“Do what?”

“Do to me what you did to my father. You’re trying to help me restore it, but you’re no fool.”

“I think that’s the first time you’ve complimented my intelligence, Azula.”

She would have laughed, but she had to know. “Would you ever take my bending away?”

Aang studied her for a moment. Though Azula had just opened her Earth chakra, her concern worried him. Was it possible to relapse and have to reopen a chakra? He knew how insightful Azula was, and knew he couldn’t lie to her. He resolved to tell her only the truth. “If you were going to use your bending to hurt innocent people, if you made me believe that there was no other way to stop you, then yes. I would do it.”

Her next words were out before she could stop them. “Would you kill me if there was no other way?”

The avatar didn’t hesitate. “No. I would not.”

“Someone might exploit that moral code of yours someday.”

Half of a smile returned to his face. “It takes strength to remain true to one’s beliefs. Wouldn’t you agree, Azula?”

After a brief pause, she gave him a low ‘hmmm’ sound. Aang took it as a small victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chakra down, six more to go.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> -A.F.S.M.A.S.


	5. Water

At the southern tip of the crescent, Aang formed a series of platforms stretching out into the open ocean, using them as stepping stones until the end, where he crafted a wider circle jutting out of the surf. The two sat down, taking their form for meditation.

“Next is the water chakra. It deals with pleasure, and is blocked by guilt. Focus on-”

“Where is it?” Azula interrupted.

The avatar froze. “Um-”

“You mentioned the location of the Earth chakra. Where is the Water chakra?”

“...it’s not really important to know where exactly each chakra is-

“If it wasn’t important, you wouldn’t have mentioned where the last chakra was.” Azula had honestly just wanted to know for knowledge’s sake, but now she could see the avatar was squirming from embarrassment. She wasn’t going to let this opportunity for amusement to slip through her fingers. “Come now, avatar. Tell me where in my body this chakra is.”

He winced, taking a deep breath through the nose. “It’s in... the sacrum area.”

Azula raised an eyebrow, trying to remember what that word meant. Then it hit her that sacrum referred to the genitals. She couldn’t help but burst out in a short bit of laughter. _This man_ , she thought. He was willing to shoulder the burden of world peace, but he couldn’t bring himself to use a more mundane term to refer to a person’s genitals.

“Well,” she replied, “I suppose at the very least it’s an appropriate location for a chakra that deals with pleasure.”

Aang looked away from her to hide his blushing cheeks, but he didn’t stop the laughter 

that escaped his lips. “Can’t argue with that.”

After a moment, they collected themselves and refocused. “The Water chakra deals with pleasure, and is blocked by guilt. Look at that which you feel guilty over. What do you blame yourself for?”

As Azula focused on her guilt, the visions came once again.

She was eight, standing in the doorway of her brother’s bedroom. Zuko had run away before grandfather could elaborate on their father’s punishment, but she had stayed behind to hear the rest. 

_“Dad’s going to kill you. Really, he is.”_

A flash ended the vision, and another began. She was fourteen, standing on the deck of her warship. Zuko was there again; older, scarred, and seething with rage.

_“You know father blames uncle for the loss at the north pole, and he considers you a miserable failure for not finding the avatar. Why would he want you back home, except to lock you up where you can no longer embarrass him?”_

The vision disappeared with another flash, and in its place she saw herself rise atop her war balloon, looking down at Zuko, standing in an ancient airbender temple.

_“You mean it’s not obvious yet!? I’m about to celebrate becoming an only child!”_

The only thing tying her back to the present amidst all of her horrible visions was the feeling of her fingers digging into her legs.

“Azula,” she heard the avatar’s voice calmly speak to her, “hurting yourself is not going to help you heal.”

She stubbornly held the painful position for a moment before relaxing her hands.

Another flash, and she was sitting next to her father. The generals were seated before them. She could hear Zuko speak of the pride and strength of the people of the Earth Kingdom, and how they would resist so long as they had hope. When her father spoke of the need to destroy that hope, words Azula wished she had never spoken defiled the air once again.

_“I think you should take their precious hope and the rest of their land and burn it all to the ground.”_

Then the worst vision of all came crashing into her mind. Lightning danced around her, the power of Sozin’s Comet coursing through her. The memory of that celestial empowerment shook her, but not with pride. Azula was left helpless as she watched herself change her target to the waterbender just before letting the bolt loose. She wanted to scream at Zuko, to get out of the way, to not throw himself into danger. But she couldn’t. She was forced to watch Zuko once again leap in front of the lightning, taking what he could not redirect to the chest. As she fired burst after burst of infernos at the waterbender, she heard herself speak.

_“Zuzu, you don’t look so good!”_

The visions stopped, and Azula opened her eyes. The sunlight now seemed blinding, and the waves felt deafening. But she didn’t care. She hung her head before speaking. “I was... I was horrible to Zuko. Father insulted him, neglected him, abused him, and I never once spoke up. I never took his side. I lied to him, bullied him… I tried to kill him.”

Aang was silent for a moment. None of this was news to him, and he knew beforehand that hearing of these events again would be painful for them both. Oddly, hearing her speak of them with such pain and grief in her voice also reassured him. It told him that his instincts were right, that he could help Azula. Azula could redeem herself. “Accept that these things happened, so that-”

“How can I accept what I’ve done!?” she snapped, raising her head to look at him. The avatar would see every ounce of the outrage that burned in her golden eyes. “You’re so proud of that family of peasants and traitors you cobbled together! How can you not feel anything but disgust at someone who hurt her own brother!? Who was hated by her own mother!?”

“Azula-”

“Did Zuko ever tell you how he got that scar? Our father did that to him! I was in the crowd that day, and do you know what I did as I watched!?”

“It-”

“I fucking smiled!” The sound of her voice deafened the moving waves around them. Azula was squeezing her shaking fists so hard that the muscles were sore. Whereas the Earth chakra made her feel sore, her Water chakra burned. She felt that she might keel over from the pain, but she couldn’t stop venting her anger. “Our father burned my brother’s face, and I was fucking glad! I told him to burn the Earth Kingdom to ash! My entire life is worth feeling guilty over! Tell me, avatar. Tell me how a monster is supposed to forgive herself! To make peace with such a multitude of horrors! Tell me!”

He was silent, looking at her with his sad, gray eyes. Then, just before she could hurl more vitriol at him, he spoke, calmly. “The same way that I had to accept the fact that I abandoned my people when they needed me most. That the world needed me for 100 years, and I wasn’t there. The same way I had to accept that I once hid the location of Sokka and Katara’s father from them out of fear that they would leave me. The same way I had to forgive myself for all the people I hurt when I couldn’t control the Avatar State. That I hurt Katara the first time I tried firebending. That I’ve messed up in so many ways that have hurt the world and the people I care about.”

Azula’s anger had slowly cooled into shock. The fists clenched at her side gradually relaxed, her ragged, emotional breathing starting to calm. She knew he was telling the truth. The only question she had was, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Over the course of unlocking your chakras, you will be baring your soul and all of its burdens to me. It’s only fair that I give you the same transparency.”

Azula hung her head once more, bringing a hand to wipe away any tears that might have been shed during her outburst. “So, you’re not as pristine as the world thinks you are.”

She could hear the smile that had returned to his face, even if it was just a little one. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone. It could ruin my whole reputation.”

Azula let out a small laugh. “We wouldn’t want that.”

“Well, a fake reputation is all a man has.”

She laughed again, but then grew quiet. There was the ever present sound of the waves and the passing birds, the way his gray eyes felt as they looked at her. But they couldn’t distract her from the ways her thoughts tormented her. “How…” she said, her voice so low she feared he couldn’t hear her. “How am I supposed to open this chakra?”

“I’ve often found that forgiving others for their wrongdoings is much easier to do than to forgive myself for my mistakes. All I can say is this: accept the reality that these things happened, but don’t let them poison you anymore. If you wish to heal, to live each day instead of just surviving it, and to reclaim your lost fire, you must forgive yourself. Realize that hating and punishing yourself will get you nowhere. Focus on what you have to gain by making peace with yourself.”

Azula closed her eyes, trying her damndest to follow through on the avatar’s words. The chakra did not open as a gentle stream, but as a slow, crumbling crash. When the pressure and pain finally lifted and faded, she was greeted back to the real world by the avatar’s words. “You have unlocked the Water chakra.”

She had only one question. “How long is the process of opening the chakras?”

“Guru Pathik guided me through the seven chakras over the span of two days.”

“Good. At least this will be brief.”

The avatar had to ruin her fleeting good feeling by saying, “But I intend to take as long as you need to complete this.”

“I can handle it, avatar,” she insisted, trying to look and sound in control of herself and her emotions. “I can deal with these visions to open the chakras.”

His almost stoic expression took on a playful smirk. “What’s the matter, Azula? I thought Fire Nation royals valued patience and determination.”

Her restrained countenance turned into an open glare. “Are any of these chakras blocked by anger or hatred?

“No.”

“Good. I can hang on to my feelings for you.”

He laughed again. The fact that he wasn’t laughing at her, but with her, only made him more insufferable.

* * *

As the afternoon turned to dusk, Aang prepared a hearty stew for their dinner. Azula had spent the time alone in her tent. In private, Aang wondered if he was making the right decision to wait before continuing to the next chakra. He hadn’t needed such time with Guru Pathik, but he knew that Azula faced a far different challenge with her chakras than he did with his own.

At least he had Appa and Momo to keep him company. “Have you two been enjoying the beach?” Aang asked.

The pair responded with a grunt and a chitter. Momo had spent his time playing in the pools Aang had formed to teach Azula about chakras, fishing along the shore, and chasing after crabs. Given the amount of time they were gone and how few bones and shells he could see, Aang guessed Momo failed more often than he succeeded. Appa, on the other hand, had decided to treat their little trip with a more laid back attitude. He had spent the day asleep in the earth tent that Aang had formed for him, and only stirred when they returned so that Aang could feed him.

“Glad to see you’re having fun.”

Azula only emerged when dinner was finally ready, and wasn’t willing to engage him in conversation. Aang noticed that at least she had a more energetic appetite tonight than what he saw at the restaurant, though he could also see a little anger in the way she dunk her bread and spoon into her food. And he knew that it wasn’t the stew that had peeved her.

After finishing his bowl, Aang put it down and stood up. “Azula, I would like to try something. With your permission.”

“What is it, avatar?” she asked, not taking her eyes off her food.

Aang motioned to a barrel of fresh water and called a small stream of it to his hands, letting it gently hover over his palms. “Waterbenders are able to heal injuries, but they can also use their abilities to understand the flow of chi in a person’s body. I’m not as good as Katara is, but I’m not bad.”

Azula let out a ‘pfft’ sound. “Great job selling yourself, avatar.” When she saw the persistence in his eyes, she sighed, “Is it a requirement of the trial?”

“No.”

“Then why do you care?”

“Because I think it’ll help me better understand your physical needs.”

“My physical needs,” she repeated. “Is that why you’ve been fattening me up every since we left Doiyasu?”

Aang admittedly did go all out with his stew. This was in part due to wanting her to feel better after the ordeal of opening her Water chakra, and partially because he knew Azula was underweight in an almost unhealthy manner. He was happy to see her eating, but he could see the restraint she would show when doing so. Aang knew trauma could affect a person in a myriad of ways, including their dietary habits. “I’m a great cook and foodie, and you’re lucky enough to experience that firsthand. I can’t help it if I pick such a great menu for us.”

She gave him another ‘pfft’ sound, somewhat more amused than before. Then, Azula grew quiet, contemplating. “I once heard of a firebending technique utilized by sages. They use their flames to understand a person’s chi, and even the energy of their very spirit.” Azula became silent again, mulling over the avatar’s proposition. She took a slow, deep breath. “Fine.”

He stepped behind her as Azula removed her jacket, untied her sash, and lifted her robe over her head and held it tightly to her chest, exposing her back to him. Aang gently placed his watery hands against her bare skin. She gave the slightest twitch at his touch before settling, like an animal who allowed him to tend to its broken leg but still felt wary of his presence. As he moved the water across her back, Aang could feel the tense, almost scarred energy within. It was no wonder why Azula was unable to firebend. “Tell me if and where you’re in pain,” he said, gently maneuvering his hands downward to the base of her spine, where Azula’s energy felt much calmer and healthier. A sigh of relief came to Aang. He decided to assume the same was true of her Water chakra.

“Well?” she asked, looking over her shoulder. “Have you learned anything?”

“Your mental turmoil and emotional imbalance have physically affected your chi. It’s not flowing the way that it should. But I have seen some noticeable improvements. I think that, as we continue with the chakras, the imbalances in your chi will mend.”

“Good,” she replied, quickly putting her clothes back on.

“You are getting better, Azula,” he assured her, trying his best to sound supportive.

She brushed him off. “Thanks for the therapy, doctor airbender,” she said, standing up and walking back to her tent.

“Good night.”

Azula did not respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 down.
> 
> Never underestimate my ability to reference a Disney movie in a tense, dramatic chapter.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> -A.F.S.M.A.S.


	6. Fire

Aang had chosen to wait following the arduous ordeal that Azula had undertaken to open her Water chakra. Guru Pathik had told him that as long as one does not abandon the trial altogether, as Aang himself briefly did, there was no danger in giving the person some time in between opening chakras. Part of Aang wondered if he was being overly cautious, or if he was pushing his luck with Azula. The two halves of his mind, divided between patience and progress, butted heads back and forth. _Maybe I’m just overthinking all of this_ , Aang told himself. _What’s the worst that could happen by waiting?_

On the first day after he announced his plan to wait, Azula passed the time by going through her firebending forms on the beach. Appa and Momo were both alarmed by this and never let themselves off guard around her. Even if she had no fire to bend, they would not trust her, especially around Aang. She wasn’t much for conversation, and outside of occasionally helping Aang with a chore around the camp, she kept to herself.

On the second day, Aang noticed the almost violent way Azula attacked her lunch and supper, and the tense aura that had grown around her as she went through her training. He got the impression it wasn’t just herself that Azula was irritated with.

On the third day, the cracks in the foundation started to show in earnest. Without the release of further progression down the chain of chakras, regardless of the ease or difficulty of opening any particular one, Azula became willing to vent her frustrations over the smallest matters.

“We’ve had nothing but fruit, vegetables, nuts, pastries, and stews since we’ve arrived,” she complained at breakfast. “Surely all that time on your own has given you some fishing skills.”

“Air Nomads don’t eat meat,” he replied.

“Fish isn’t meat.”

“It is for me.”

Azula let out a beleaguered groan and kicked at the sand, storming off away from him. The small number of times she would help with a chore became zero for the rest of the day.

It was on the morning of the fourth day that Aang realized just how far Azula was willing to go in her pursuit of tormenting and prodding him. He was making a necklace from discarded seashells by the campfire site when Azula emerged from her tent, wearing the bright red bikini.

Aang had packed a variety of outfits for Azula with recommendations from Lady Ursa, whose knowledge of Fire Nation fashion for women was invaluable. He knew they would be together on the island for a while, and that their days there might be some of the hottest that the summer had to offer. He threw the bikini into the luggage on a whim, but he didn’t think that Azula would actually wear it. The way she so confidently walked out of her tent in it, the way it showed off her shoulders, her midriff, her legs-

 _Be respectful_ , Aang told himself, looking away and quashing that stream of thought. _You are here to help her, she is your best friend’s little sister, and she is just doing this to mess with you_.

Aang may have thought himself quick, but women notice the subtlest of glances. Azula did not know what to think of him. She knew she had no talent for… physically or romantically manipulating someone. Her experience with Chan long ago had taught her that. But the reaction she got from the avatar was better than she had hoped. Clearly he saw greater beauty in her than Azula saw in herself. _Perhaps the avatar has a taste for dangerous women_.

She took the seat opposite him at the unlit campfire, resting her weight on her right hand so she could stretch her legs out for him to see. Aang did his best to maintain eye contact with her, looking at every bit of that smug, vindictive confidence that sparkled in Azula’s golden eyes that barely hid the knowledge that she knew full well what she was doing.

“Everything alright, avatar?” she asked with a thin veneer of innocence in her voice.

Aang would have scowled, but that would have been giving her too much power. “Everything’s peachy, Azula,” he told her while wondering in the back of his mind if he ever saw her act so evilly before.

“What are you making?”

He held up his new project, planting his focus on the big pink shell in the center and away from her body. “I like to make jewelry.”

“Hmm. Didn’t know you were a man of such talents.”

The way she spoke, the smooth delivery and her subtle dip into her lower register, gave Aang goosebumps. _Whatever self-esteem issues you may have,_ _you know damn well how good of a voice you’ve got, Azula_ , Aang thought.

“Yeah,” he said, trying to hide the strain in his voice and focus on his necklace, “I’m a man of many skills.”

“You seem so dedicated and focused on it.”

“Well… that’s just how I like to approach… my jewelry making.”

Finally, Azula deigned to notice the effect her ploy was having on him. “Is something wrong, avatar?” she asked. “Surely between all the busy work we’ve been doing, a day of amusement on the beach is in order.”

Then, the controlled, tortured expression that Aang had on his face gave way to a smirk, and for a split second Azula wondered if her strategy was going to backfire on her. With a quick motion of his arms, Aang put aside his necklace and undid the top of his robe that covered his chest and laid it on the sand. “You’re right!” he retorted as he mimicked her position, complete with the flaunting of his legs and flexing his smooth, muscular chest. “It’s a fun day at the beach! I should be dressed for it!”

She groaned in defeat, sitting upright and crossing her legs. “How can a man with so much power be so juvenile?”

“How can a princess be so immature?”

“I am not immature!”

“Oh!? Then what would you call it?”

Azula jabbed a finger at him and opened her mouth, but couldn’t think of anything to say. She had reached a stalemate with the avatar and had nothing left to fire at him. _Time to change tactics_ , she told herself.

Before he could stop her, Azula grabbed his glider and began toying with it. “I noticed you had this new glider at the Battle of Black Sun. What happened to your old one?”

“It was damaged during my attempt to fly into the Fire Nation by myself during a storm. I actually ended up having to destroy it on this island.”

Azula rose to her feet and flipped the switch to unfurl the wings of the glider. She pursed her lips while saying, “A shame. Orange was more your color.”

“Teo made it for me.”

“Who?”

“An inventor from the Earth Kingdom. His dad and people moved into the Northern Air Temple. They’ve been friends of mine ever since.”

Azula started twirling the staff around, even tossing it up into the air again and again, clearly not showing an ounce of respect for his belongings. She twisted the right handle, letting out the almonds he kept packed there for an emergency snack. “Oops,” she said in a way that made it clear that it wasn’t an accident and she wasn’t sorry. Despite their mistrust of her, Momo quickly scooped up the almonds, earning him an annoyed grunt from Appa.

“That’s okay,” he sighed in a restrained manner. “I can always restock.”

“Of course you can,” Azula mocked. “Half our food supply is nuts. Ooh! I know what you can spend your free time doing!”

He was afraid to ask, knowing she was setting him up for something. “And what would that be?”

“You can work on your teamaking!”

That took him aback. “What’s wrong with my tea?”

“Oh, it’s not bad. It’s just,” Azula paused to suck air in through her teeth, “a bit bland and, dare I say it, unimpressive.”

Aang furrowed his brow, glaring at her. “It’s an old nomad recipe.”

Azula made a ‘hmmm’ sound. “A pity the Air Nomads didn’t leave us a master teamaker.”

And that was it.

“Azula.”

“Yes, avatar?”

“Let’s go unlock your third chakra.”

* * *

At noon, they arrived at the highest point on the island. Aang had formed a dense platform several feet thick over the entrance at the top of the volcano. He wished that Azula had changed back into the normal outfit she had chosen for herself, but she didn’t. With any luck, her Fire chakra would open and she would stop trying to torment him over his patient nature.

When Azula stepped onto the dark earth, she could feel the sun on her skin and the power of the volcano under her feet. _Yes_ , she thought. _This is the perfect place_.

The two sat down and assumed the meditation form that Aang had shown her. He spoke, “Next in the chain is the Fire chakra, located within the stomach. It deals with willpower, and is blocked by shame. Think about what you have done that makes you disappointed with yourself.”

Azula closed her mind and focused on his instruction.

The vision began roughly with a series of images throughout her life of the times she had with Zuko, all of which involved her being horrible to him. Her stomach began to tighten, and Azula feared this chakra would be as bad as the last.

Then the sights and sounds of her memories with her brother changed suddenly to Azula as a girl, pushing Ty Lee to the ground.

With a snap, her mind called forth the circus.

_“Of course, before I leave, I’m going to catch your show.”_

_“...uh, yeah. Sure. Of course.”_

Ty Lee began her routine as intended, with the great skill she had honed over so many years. Then Azula had to watch herself order the ringmaster to set the net on fire, followed by her command to release every animal the circus had.

Then she was at the Boiling Rock on that horrible day. The guards quickly walked away upon her dismissal. The only ones left on the metal platform were herself, Mai, and Ty Lee, standing off to the side with that terrified look on her face.

_“I never expected this from you. The thing I don’t understand is why. Why would you do it? You know the consequences.”_

Mai’s voice was as clear as it always was.

_“I guess you just don’t know people as well as you think you do. You miscalculated. I love Zuko more than I fear you.”_

_“No, you miscalculated! You should have feared me more!”_

With a flash of her mother’s face and the sound of shattering glass, the visions ended. Keeping her eyes shut, Azula explained, “I was ready to kill Mai. Despite all the years I knew her, despite going to school with her, growing up with her, fighting by her side, I followed my anger and tried to kill her. If your side hadn’t won the war, she and Ty Lee would have rotted in jail cells for the rest of their lives.” She opened her eyes, giving the avatar a doleful look. “You asked me what I’m ashamed of. What shouldn’t I be ashamed of? I’ve failed at every role I’ve ever had in my life. As a sister, a daughter, a princess, a friend. Even as a firebender.”

The avatar spoke with the gentle strength and wisdom she had come to expect from him. “You are ashamed because you acted in a way that conflicts with your image of yourself and against the ways you believe you should have acted.”

“At the time it wasn’t. Then I underwent the one-two combination of a breakdown and therapy. It shifted my perceptions just a tad.” The heat above and the heat below brought her some comfort. Just enough to help her voice what she might otherwise have left unsaid. “I don’t think there’s anyone who I’ve treated in a way that I’m proud of.”

“Why did you treat people this way?” he asked.

Azula sighed. The avatar truly could have been a healer. It wasn’t just enough for her to contemplate on the subjects they were talking about. He wanted her to say her thoughts out loud.

It would have been easy to blame her father, and it would not have been inaccurate. She could lay nearly every sin of her life at her deposed father’s feet. But Azula’s mind would not let her off so easily. Her thoughts flew around like wasps, telling her she had a choice. She always had a choice. _It doesn’t matter how young you were_ , they told her. _You could have been better. You could have chosen to not be as horrible as you are_.

“I was taught that was what I had to be like. I’ve always had to be the best,” she told him. “It was my birthright. My obligation.”

“Has that perception of yourself helped you?”

Her thoughts intruded themselves again, as they were wont to do, bringing to mind her defeat during Sozin’s Comet. “No. In the end, it has only made me miserable. All the strength I valued, the flawlessness with which I thought a princess should perform, it all failed me in the end.”

“Your uncle once told me that power and perfection are overrated, that it is wise to choose happiness and love.”

“He would.”

“Azula, the key to opening your chakras isn’t to be flawless.”

She glared at him. “Either I open these chakras, or I don’t. I see no in between.”

Aang explained, “The way a chakra opens can be different. I know that from experience. You experienced that between opening your Earth and Water chakras.”

Azula hung her head, irritated with how constantly right he was.

“Life isn’t a black and white divide between success and failure. There’s a whole rainbow of color in this world. That’s what makes life special.”

She scoffed, “You would say that.”

“Do you think I’m wrong?”

 _No_ , she thought. _You’re just insufferable_. Then, the anger in her cooled, and Azula found she was able to speak without it. “You spoke of forgiveness last time. How… how did you forgive my brother?”

Aang was surprised, but could understand why she would ask such a question. “He showed me that he had changed, that he was willing to make up for his past actions. Plus, Appa vouched for him. Sky bison are good judges of character.”

She wore her displeasure at his answer clearly. “Yours tried to shake me off the moment I grabbed him.”

“Zuko did free Appa from a prison in Ba Sing Se.” The avatar leaned in, covering the side of his mouth with his hand as if he was trying to hide gossip. “I’ll let you in on a secret. If you want to get on Appa’s good side, he loves orange melons, and I’ve packed six of them.”

She almost chuckled. “Why are you telling me this?”

He held up his hands, as if to wipe them clean of telling her his little secret. “I’m just saying. If Appa were to wake up and find an orange melon presented to him, he’d feel pretty positive towards whoever brought it to him.”

“And what of the lemur?” Azula asked. “What should I do to get on his good side?”

“Momo just likes food in general. Give him enough, and he’ll eventually warm up to you.”

Azula rolled her eyes, but did so with a smile. The avatar had an infectious joy to him that was difficult to resist.

“Azula, I know it’s hard,” he said, getting back into the matter at hand, “but I believe that you can find the strength to release your shame. Then, and only then, can you restore the willpower that will reconnect you with your firebending.”

“You ask quite a lot of a person who used to be your enemy.”

“One could say the same of you,” he replied, giving her another gentle smile that came so easily to him. Azula thought he was crazy to be so willing to give her such trust and pleasantries, but when they came she still welcomed them.

Azula focused, closing her eyes. She doubted that Mai, Ty Lee, or her mother would ever want to see or speak to her ever again. But Zuko, despite all the ways that Azula was herself, still held out hope for her. And knowing the master of all four elements was rooting for her didn’t hurt. Azula breathed in through the nose and out through the mouth. The chakra opened slowly. It wasn’t clean, but it didn’t open or flow as messily as the last one did. With it open, the twisted knot that had built up in her stomach released.

“You have opened the Fire chakra.”

Azula stood with gusto. She took it a sharp breath and threw a punch outwards, but nothing came of it. She did it again and again, convinced that opening the Fire chakra would be enough. She could almost feel the energy working correctly in her body, but still nothing happened.

Aang placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I think you’ll need to open all of the chakras first.”

Azula slowly lowered her arms, letting out a defeated sigh. “Let’s go back to the beach.”

* * *

Opening the chakra had relieved much of the tension that had built up over the past days. Azula stopped going out of her way to aggravate or antagonize him, she helped with a few chores, and she left his few belongings be. She hadn’t changed her clothes, but at least she wasn’t directly using her beauty as a weapon anymore.

Near the end of their dinner, Azula asked, “How long have you wanted to do this, avatar?”

“Do what?”

“Take me to this island for your chakras trial.”

“Months. I’ve wanted to do this for months,” he replied, refilling both of their tea cups.

“Really? Then what took you so long?”

“Part of it was learning more of the trial. I may have opened my own chakras, but I wanted to become an expert before helping someone else. I also visited each of my friends to get their say on the matter.”

“I imagine that didn’t go over well.”

“Zuko didn’t give up on you. He was the one who showed me Chiyo’s letters from Doiyasu.”

“And the others?”

“...Katara, Toph, Sokka, and Suki all thought I was varying degrees of crazy.”

“And what of Mai and Ty Lee?”

It didn’t slip past Aang that her mother wasn’t on that list. He didn’t want to upset her, but knowing how insightful she was, Aang stuck to the truth. “Both had their doubts, but Mai gave her consent to my plan, and Ty Lee told me she hoped that I would succeed in helping you.”

Azula dropped her eyes back to her tea. _I suppose any amount of optimism they have for me is a blessing_ , Azula thought as she drank, while her more intrusive thoughts told her that any amount was more than she deserved.

“And, of course” Aang continued, “I had to wait for a moment when the world didn’t have a major crisis or nightmare scenario to throw at me. The world currently has just enough harmony for me to spend some alone time with you.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, turning her head slightly. “And if a crisis did erupt while we were on this island?”

Aang had considered that, but hadn’t been able to come up with a good enough answer. All he could say was, “Only my friends know I’m here. If something did come up and they contacted me, then… yes. I would temporarily leave to go handle the problem, but then I would come right back.”

Azula took a long drink of tea. When she spoke next, she had a surprise for him. “You know what your problem is, avatar?”

“Oh?” he retorted with a smirk at her. “I have only the one?”

“Well, you have several and they’re all infuriating, but let’s focus on just the one for now.”

Aang leaned back, resting on his palms, fully expecting another playing ribbing from her. “And what would that be?”

“You don’t care about yourself.”

He gave her a confused look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You place everything in the world above your own needs.”

“I’m the avatar. Caring about the world is my entire job.”

“And I do not dispute that fact. But the question remains: what good are you to the world if you do not see to your own needs?”

Aang tried to speak, but initially found himself at a loss for words. “I… I make time to take care of myself.”

“Do you?”

“Sure I do!” he countered, sounding more defensive than he intended.

“Care to hear a Fire Nation folktale from my childhood, avatar?”

“Alright,” Aang said, hesitantly.

Azula began.

“Once, there was a man who wanted to become a traveler. He had never left his home village before, and knew nothing of the outside world. He was convinced it matched the romantic ideals he had envisioned in his head. So he set out with all his belongings. In his travels, he came upon all manner of towns and cities, but the people he met could see his naivety and gullibility, so they exploited that. He heard one woman bemoan the heavy load she had to carry, so he gave her his dragon moose. A merchant complained of how he could not store all his goods, so he gave the liar his cart. The thievery of the strangers continued until eventually the traveler surrendered all of his possessions, even his own clothes. To hide his naked shame, he stuck to traveling in the woods. It was there that he was found by an assortment of beasts and monsters. Even they could see how easily this man could be tricked, and cried of the hunger they suffered from. He offered up his fingers and toes, then his arms, then his legs, his heart, stomach, liver, etc. To the last wicked spirit he offered his eyes. The spirit took them and thanked him for the generous gift, giving him a scroll as a means of thanking him. The scroll, however, only read, ‘You’re a fool.’ But the traveler just kept crying his tears of joy through his empty sockets, thankful for the spirit’s gift.”

Aang didn’t hide his honest, horrified reaction. “That’s an awful story. You heard that as a kid?”

Azula nodded, acknowledging his point. “My mother didn’t like it either. She tried to keep stories like that away from us, but there was nothing to stop Mai, Ty Lee, and I from sharing them late at night during our academy days. The obvious moral from a Fire Nation perspective is to warn of the dangers of reckless generosity, how our good intentions can be used against us by those who want to manipulate us. But regardless of its grim nature and gruesome ending, there is another grain of truth to the story. It wasn’t just the traveler’s lack of wisdom that sealed his fate. His greatest error was his lack of pride. He placed the needs of others over himself at every turn. Rather than ignore them or assist them in a way that wouldn’t depreciate himself, he put himself in service to everyone. He placed no value on himself or his well-being, so the world took it from him. Without his pride, the world left him nothing but shame.”

“Another lesson might be ‘don’t exploit people.’”

A breath of laughter escaped her as she gave him a smirk. “Of course an Air Nomad would make that the moral.”

“You really think that the lesson is to beware of shame?”

“Of course.”

He folded his arms, thinking. “Earlier, when you were thinking on points of your life that you were ashamed of, were you focusing on what also made you proud?”

She nodded. “Pride and willpower are two halves of a matched set. You cannot truly have one without the other. And pride is the end of shame.”

Aang spoke cautiously, trying not to offend or upset her. “One might say that pride is not the opposite of shame, but its source.”

“Then what would you call pride’s antithesis?”

Aang shrugged. “Humility.”

“Ha! You sound like my uncle.”

He smiled at her. “Thank you, Azula.”

Azula rolled her eyes before holding out her hand, her gaze fixed on her palm. She was hoping beyond hope that her bending might show some sign of itself, even just a little heat under her skin, but nothing came. Still, she persisted as she continued to speak. “Fire is the element of power. Those who excel in it do so because they recognize what they want in life, and have the will and energy to pursue that ambition to the fullest. They have the strength to overcome any hardships that stand in their way and achieve what they want.”

It was fascinating for Aang to hear Azula explain firebending, both to understand her viewpoint and to compare it to others who had taught him.

Jeong Jeong spoke of fire with the regret and self-hatred of an old warrior, stressing the vitalness of discipline, of taking power in fire from the right sources, such as the sun and proper breath control. He had initially refused to teach Aang without the lessons that learning waterbending and earthbending would give him. In a way, Jeong Jeong was right. After he had burned Katara, Aang hadn’t touched firebending again for almost a year, after he trained extensively in the other two elements.

The Sun Warriors, in a similar but far more optimistic manner, stressed the importance of balance in regards to firebending. Their wisdom was pure, for it came from the very origins of firebending. They reminded him that fire was life and not just destruction. It was energy, and energy can be used for great good and great evil alike. If it wasn’t for them and the masters Ran and Shaw, Aang may never have found the strength to reclaim his firebending.

Sifu Zuko was an instructor much in the same vein as Sifu Toph. He encouraged Aang to be ferocious and relentless in firebending, and wasn’t one to give a student many breaks during training. Even when he and Sokka had left to save Hakoda and Suki, Zuko left Aang a long list of exercises to do in his absence. Admittedly, the war was still going on, and Zuko had much to teach in so little of a time.

Of the three, Azula’s perspective ironically reminded him the most of Zuko. Though as different as night and day, they both relied on a proud, passionate drive to be such powerful benders. It was losing sight of the purpose fueling their flames brought on by a shift in identity and belief that caused them to briefly lose their connection to firebending, though Azula’s was the more extreme case.

Azula turned her gaze from her flameless hand back to him. “Tell me, avatar; do you know what you want out of life for yourself, and do you have the energy to take it?”

Aang gave the question a moment of contemplation, turning his gaze westward. In the distance, he could see a sudden release of air that could only have come from an animal’s blowhole, and there was only one animal in the area that could take a breath that big.

He shot up to his feet, an old, familiar boldness taking hold of him. “I want to go shark whale surfing.” He turned back to her, holding his hand out. “Care to join me?”

Reason told Azula to say no, and to call him crazy for good measure. But, he had such an exuberant look on his face, and, well, ...it wasn’t as if Azula had anything to lose. “If I die, I will haunt you for the rest of your life,” she replied, taking his hand.

“Have a little optimism, Azula.”

Before she could stop him, he pulled her onto his back, and had his hands gripped onto her bare thighs. “Hang on tight, Your Highness,” he told her in a tone so cheeky it could hide walnuts. A controlled explosion of air sent them flying fifty feet from the shore, and a well timed breath formed a thin slab of ice under them. Azula held on tight as he used both water and airbending to propel them across the ocean at an accelerated speed.

Shark whales earned their name from their appearance rather than their temperament or any potential danger they posed to humans. Azula knew that since childhood. That still didn’t mean she wanted to test it out for herself, but she refused to let the avatar see her fear.

By the multitude of breaches before them, there must have been an entire pod of them beneath the water. One of the whales stuck out more of its body than the others, showing off the entirety of its dorsal fin and much of its thick, gray back.

“Hang on!” Aang shouted.

He didn’t have to tell her that. When he used a current of wind to hop on to the whale’s back and then released her legs to grab hold of the fin, Azula wrapped her legs around his chest and held on so tightly to his neck that she nearly choked him. Immediately they could feel the shark whale stir at the presence of a creature gripping its fin. Rather than resubmerge, it began swimming along the surface at a speed Azula didn’t think such a large creature was capable of.

“Having fun, Azula!?”

“How did you live long enough to defeat my father!?” she yelled, resisting the urge to bury her face into his neck.

The beast would buck, make sharp turns, flop its pectoral fins, move in zigzags, but no matter what it did it could not shake them. At one point, the whale dove deep beneath the surface. Aang had only a second to bend a bubble around them to ensure they wouldn’t drown. Azula was astonished that he could be so precise with just one free arm and strong enough to keep his position on the whale’s back. The shark whale then veered upwards, swinging its tail furiously to gain speed. When it erupted past the surface of the water and soared into the air, Azula felt as if she was flying. Sure, she used jets of flame to propel herself through the air before and had rode on war balloons, but never before had she moved in such a way with such monumental power that she had no control over. Her life was completely in the hands of the avatar. Azula doubted any Fire Nation princess before her had ever experienced something like this. She couldn’t lie to herself. This was fun. Immensely dangerous and stupid, but fun. Despite herself, she began to openly laugh at the thrill ride the avatar had taken her on. She heard his laughter mix with her own, and soon got lost in the sound of it.

* * *

Aang knew not to overstay their welcome, and just as the sun began to slip down past the horizon, he let the whale go and got them back to shore. Exhausted, the pair flopped onto the beach, still laughing.

“You’re…” Azula said, her winded breath tinged with laughter that made her stomach sore, “you’re insane. You know that, right?”

“What can I say?” he replied, equally out of breath and with just as big a smile on his face. “I saw what I wanted, and I had the energy to achieve it.”

“I think you took my lesson in too strange a manner, avatar.”

“A new teacher can do wonders for a student, Sifu Azula.”

“Shut up!” she said, flicking some sand onto his chest. “Calling me that isn’t going to get me to refer to you as ‘Sifu Aang.’”

“A man can hope, Azula. A man can hope.”

Azula ran a hand through her hair, giving an annoyed chuckle at the sand clinging to her wet locks. “Is this how you spend your time with your friends?”

“I do more of the riding than them. Elephant koi, hopping llamas, hog monkeys. I’ve bothered quite a few animals all over the world.”

Then, a silence overtook the conversation. As it lingered, Azula realized she couldn’t remember the last time she shared such a comfortable moment of silence with someone. In her youth, the silences that could surround her were because she demanded them and others would comply out of fear of her, or in the rare case where her father’s anger or displeasure would seize her tongue. But with him, Azula was fine just to lay there in the sand next to him.

He eventually broke the silence in a way that surprised her. “It’s been a while since I’ve done something like that.”

She turned her head in the sand to look at him. “Like what? Risk your life by using an animal for a joyride?”

The avatar kept his gaze on the night sky above them. His voice took on a nostalgic, almost sad, tone. “It’s funny that I could find more chances to have fun with my friends when there was a war going on than now, long after it ended. Sokka and Suki are overseeing the construction of Republic City, Zuko has his fire lord duties, Katara and Toph are in Omashu, and I’m constantly flying all over the world. Whenever we get to see each other, it’s lovely. We talk, we eat together, we laugh, but… it’s not quite the same as it used to be. Our reunions are always too short. I don’t even mess around with Appa and Momo as much anymore.”

To her surprise, Azula spoke to comfort him, despite the tingling of awkwardness and anxiety plaguing the back of her mind. “Keep holding onto hope, avatar. You’re still young. I’m… I’m sure you can find plenty of chances for fun with your friends.”

Then, his words truly shocked her. “Sometimes when I see them, Sokka, Katara, Toph, Zuko, Suki, or anyone really who knows me well, they’ll ask if I’m getting enough sleep, or if I’m eating right. Katara and Zuko especially. ...you weren't wrong, Azula. I have gotten used to ignoring myself for the sake of focusing on the world.”

Azula was speechless for a moment. She had never expected the avatar to be open about such a matter as this with her. A twinge in her right arm compelled her to reach out to him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Finally, she told him, “For what it’s worth, avatar… I also think that your selflessness is… an admirable trait. It takes a big person to be so compassionate and dedicated to helping people.”

He turned his head in the sand to look at her. “Thank you, Azula.”

They stared at each for another prolonged, silent moment. The sun was so low that Azula could only just see him, even as he laid only a few feet from her. The only sounds she could hear were the swaying of the ocean waves against the shore, and mingled noise of their slow breaths.

It… it was too much. She rolled away from him, getting back to her feet. “I’m going to bed. Good night, avatar.”

“Good night, princess,” he replied, inflecting the sound of her title exactly as she inflected his. That got a chuckle out of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aang: "Azula, your current behavior is unconducive to the progression of your mental health and overall wellbeing."  
> Azula: "You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid."
> 
> The best thing about this ship is that you can take this joke/meme and turn it around so that Aang delivers the punchline. I can really envision a piece of fanart with the original exchange.  
> Azula: "You should be addicted to shutting the fuck up."  
> Aang: "You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid."
> 
> Alternate title for this chapter: "Aang tries to be nice to Azula, and in return she sexually frustrates and annoys the fuck out of him"
> 
> Azula probably wouldn't watch Fruits Basket, but I can see Aang watching it.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> A.F.S.M.A.S.


	7. Air

Over one week ago…

Lady Ursa, ex-wife of the former fire lord and mother of the current one, was first among Fire Lady Mai’s ladies in waiting and one of her son’s chief advisors. The few remaining courtiers who served in the days of Azulon had welcomed her return with enthusiasm. Some believed that, though the young fire lord could win over the Fire Nation’s youth and former adversaries alike, Ursa was a fundamental component to his success with the older generations of the Fire Nation who found difficulty in adjusting to the peaceful world that the new fire lord and the avatar had created. In private, Zuko once confessed to Aang that his mother had the solution to half of the headaches that his more cantankerous subjects brought before him, and was willing to bet many more problems never required his intervention due to his mom’s efforts.

Ursa had been a rare light in the waning days of Fire Lord Azulon’s reign. Following the death of his wife, Fire Lady Ilah, Azulon had grown colder and isolated, and the members of his court feared incurring his wrath over the slightest infractions. He rarely held company or even spoke to anyone outside of his eldest and favored son, Prince Iroh, and his council of generals, for Azulon focused what little energies he could muster into the war effort. But Ursa was a rare exception. Though primarily focused on her children over political matters, the opposite of her former husband, she was well known for her skill to settle issues and resolve conflicts among the noble houses before anyone had a chance to burn a rival, a rare talent in the Fire Nation. Azulon knew that the day-to-day operations that Iroh had overseen in the capital would need to be handled by another once the siege of Ba Sing Se began, so he planned on Ursa to fill that void, believing she possessed the same precision and efficiency that made Ilah so invaluable during the later reign of his father, Fire Lord Sozin. Though Azulon wanted Roku’s granddaughter for the royal bloodline, it was these qualities and more that had sealed his decision to wed her to Prince Ozai.

It thus came as a shock to everyone that Ursa declined the responsibility, instead gently suggesting that Ozai should be appointed to the position. It was one of the few times that anyone had directly risked suffering the fire lord’s displeasure. But even after this incident, Azulon still held Ursa in a certain regard, as much as he was capable of valuing anyone aside from Iroh. The aging fire lord had even once been heard to remark to a pair of war ministers that, were it not for the inconvenient age difference and that Iroh’s marriage had already been arranged, he should have married Ursa to his eldest son. It was an open secret that, outside of Iroh and a handful of old generals, Ursa was the one who could get close to the fire lord. Even Ozai did not possess such access to his own father, much to the prince’s chagrin.

However, no one fully escapes scrutiny, as Aang once learned from a minister who had been dismissed by Ozai. There were a few dark whispers among the court of how her silent exile coincided with the death of Azulon and the ascension of her husband, but no one would dare to say anything publicly against Fire Lord Zuko’s mother.

Aang had found himself almost smitten with her upon their first meeting. He was present for the reunion between Zuko and Ursa, and couldn’t stop himself from crying along with them as mother and son ran into each other’s embrace. It was wonderful to see just how happy Zuko was with his mom back in his life. Aang couldn’t help but draw comparisons between Ursa and Sister Iio, a nun of the Eastern Air Temple who was responsible for watching over their sky bison and helping young airbenders to form bonds with their bison. Like Sister Iio, Ursa wielded authority with a gentle hand, had a matronly way of dispensing fair judgment, and carried great wisdom. After all she had gone through being married to Ozai and the exile that separated her from her children, Aang was glad to know she’d soon be a grandmother.

Following Ursa’s return from a religious observance that required a representative of the royal family, Aang quietly took her aside. Ursa knew of the healers’ letters from Doiyasu, but at his request Zuko had not shared the plan the two of them had been preparing. Aang would change that now.

“I’m going to see Azula. If she agrees to come with me, I’m going to take her to Crescent Island to open her chakras. If she does, that will restore her firebending.”

Aang explained the chakras to Ursa, and how he had undergone a trial with Guru Pathik to open his own to gain control of the Avatar State. Her response was measured. “Some might say that you’re taking a big risk, Aang.”

He gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m the avatar. Risks are my business.”

Ursa held onto her tea cup as if it were an anchor. “I know Chiyo wrote that Azula has opened up to therapy, that it’s been years since her last incident, but do you truly think that she’s ready to leave?”

“I do. I think the healers on Doiyasu have given Azula a solid foundation on which to stand, but I also think she has stagnated there. If she is to truly gain a permanent sense of peace, she’ll have to leave one day.”

Her next question gave Aang pause. “Why do you want to be the one to help her?”

One part of Aang’s mind told him to tell Ursa of his vision, while another told him to keep his mouth shut. He had told Roku, Iroh, and Guru Pathik of it, but each of them knew of such spiritual matters, and none of them were Azula’s mother. “The universe gave me a reminder that the avatar must bring balance, both to the world and the people around him. Azula may have been my enemy, but I think that there’s still hope for her.”

He could tell from the look in her eye and the slight shift in tone that she saw his half-truth for what it was. “Should I be happy or worried that the universe is taking an interest in my daughter?”

“In my experience, concern is not unwarranted. But I know what I’m doing. Guru Pathik showed me how to help another open their chakras, Katara tutored me on healing with waterbending, and I’ve spoken with everyone I know about Azula.”

“Still. I don’t mean to question your abilities, Aang, but…” Ursa looked away from him, apprehension riddling her brow.

Aang knew nothing of what it was like to be a parent, but he knew what it was like to fear for a family member’s safety. In such times, what he sought was a reaffirmation. “Zuko hasn’t given up hope.”

That made Ursa smile. “He got that stubbornness from me. Once he starts to care about something or someone, he’ll never let them go.”

“I got that impression from all that time he spent chasing me.”

The two laughed together. Aang still remembered the first time Zuko had joked about that part of their past in front of Ursa. She had shot him a concerned look, as if her son had just rubbed salt in an old wound, only to be befuddled when Aang shot a similar quip right back. As the two laughed, Ursa shrugged and went back to the scroll she was reading, confused but pleased that her son had such strong, if unusual, friendships.

“Ursa,” Aang continued, returning to the matter at hand with a little more serious tone of voice, “I’m under no impression that Azula won’t have complicated feelings towards me, but I might be the person she has the least complicated feelings about.”

She took a slow drink from her tea before responding. “Did Zuko ever tell you when I went to see her?”

“No.”

“It was two years after the end of the war. There wasn’t anything on fire, literally or metaphorically, so I thought Zuko and Mai could handle a few weeks of my absence. I sailed out to Doiyasu to see my little girl for the first time in almost nine years.”

“What did you talk to her about?”

“We didn’t. She got one look at me and panicked. She never said a word to me, just ran away while screaming. I later learned some poor guard got a serious burn along his arms trying to restrain her. The healers told me that my absence would be for the best. When Dr. Chiyo told me of Azula’s improvements years afterwards, I asked her if I could try seeing her again. She advised me not to, that Azula was still in too fragile a state.”

Aang bowed his head to her. “I swear to you, Lady Ursa. I will do everything I can for Azula.”

Ursa gave him a small smile, then looked away for a moment. When she responded, her voice was filled with a tempered sense of optimism. “Aang, please come see me before you leave.”

Aang woke at sunrise on the day he was to leave for Doiyasu. Appa’s saddle was filled with luggage. His departure was kept private so as not to make a production out of it. Zuko and Ursa had woken to say goodbye. Mai would have joined them, but a pregnant Fire Lady who wants to sleep in is best left undisturbed. Lady Ursa gave him her fondest wishes, and a single, sealed scroll. With it, she wished the avatar luck and gave him only a single request. “When she’s ready.”

* * *

The Present...

On a stone ridge on the back of the island’s crescent shape, Aang and Azula meditated.

“The Air chakra is located in the heart. It deals with love, and is blocked by grief. Lay all your grief out in front of you.”

Azula slowly closed her eyes, already uneasy about opening this chakra. At least survival, pleasure, and willpower had relevance to her life. But love? She dreaded what her mind and soul had to unleash on her.

Grief came easily to her, as she expected. She saw herself weeping after the waterbender had bested her. That collapse was quite some time in the making. But Azula saw that moment in plenty of nightmares, and in one of the visions of her Fire chakra. It hurt, and she knew it would hurt her for the rest of her life, but the pain felt lesser than before. She at least knew how to better handle and process her feelings on it.

There were little moments that played in quick succession. She saw herself burn Zuko’s bed after learning of his desertion, followed by the sight of the burned wall of her quarters after the events at the Boiling Rock.

Then, there was a moment that Azula had not thought on in years.

_“Your mother is gone, Azula.”_

She was eight, maybe nine, when her father told her. Grandfather was dead, and Ozai would be crowned as his successor at his funeral.

_“Where is she?”_

_“I don’t know,”_ her father shrugged, but something in his voice betrayed a stronger feeling on the matter.

With another flash, her mind called forth a brief memory only a few days prior, of her and Zuko chasing each other in the garden of the palace, laughing their heads off. Mother cut their play short.

_“Iroh has lost his son. Your cousin, Lu Ten, did not survive the battle.”_

She hadn’t thought of Lu Ten in years. At the time of his death, she had no tears. Zuzu and mother shed plenty for all three of them. Lu Ten had always been popular. Zuzu loved him, and was always trailing after him, asking if he had any stories to tell or if he could help with his training. Grandfather, for whatever reason, always favored uncle over father, and those feelings transferred to Lu Ten. Fire Lord Azulon encouraged uncle to bring him to war council meetings, and had even personally selected his firebending teachers. As her father’s prodigy, Azula felt at the time that they were natural rivals. Lu Ten never treated her that way. He would muss up her hair the same way he did Zuko’s, he would compliment her skills at firebending, and he would pick her up in one of those sweeping hugs that she hated. Azula remembered him as always smiling. Lu Ten and the avatar probably would’ve gotten along swimmingly.

Yet another memory came to her. She saw herself as a six year old, squaring off against the smiling cousin who towered over her.

 _“Take that!”_ she shouted, sending a small flame at his chest.

 _“No!”_ he cried in his over-dramatic fashion. He had neutralized the flame with the back of his hand, but still clutched at his robe while falling to the ground. _“Have mercy, Azula!”_

 _“Mercy is for the weak!”_ she proclaimed before jumping onto his chest. Though the air was knocked out of him, he was soon laughing again.

She wondered what it would have meant had Lu Ten survived the 600 day siege. Uncle probably would have taken the city and won the war. Father wouldn’t have made his play at power, and grandfather wouldn’t have demanded Zuko’s death. What would her life be like under the reign of Fire Lord Iroh? She probably wouldn’t have now been on an island alone with the avatar.

She put the thought aside. It did no good to ponder on what if scenarios.

Then, slowly, the world became warm. When she opened her eyes, she was back at the garden of the royal palace. She turned around to find the pond for the turtle ducks, and there they stood with their backs to her. Zuko, uncle, and… and mother.

Slowly, hesitantly, she tried to take a step towards them, only for the ground under her feet to start moving her back. She tried to resist to no avail, reaching out to them as the world took her away from them. The warmth and light of the gardens was ripped away, and Azula found herself trapped in a cold, stony room. A single, half-lit sconce was the only thing giving her bearings. She quickly looked around, and found a row of iron bars. The dim amount of light slowly shifted over and past the bars, revealing its single occupant: her father. The crumbled mess with uncouth hair covering his face gradually looked up at her. Azula shut her eyes, refusing to see him. In the darkness, Azula was left alone with her thoughts, which she knew was a cruel place to be.

Did Zuko still love her, or did he send her to Doiyasu to get her out of the way and out of sight? Azula wouldn’t be the first princess to meet such a fate.

Did her uncle love her? Unlikely. She had never given him reason to.

She knew her father didn’t. He loved only himself.

Did her mother...

She froze, and slowly the truth swallowed her. She knew what they thought of her. She was an ugly creature who had driven away anyone who might have cared for her. She was alone. She deserved to-

“Azula, stop!”

The avatar’s voice snapped her out of it.

“I could feel you slipping into despair,” he said. “You must avoid such thoughts, or else you might block the chakra further.”

“Despair?” she asked. “What is there not to despair, avatar? If you killed me on this island, no one would blame you. No one would miss me.”

“I would miss you.”

Azula looked at him, pain and confusion etched onto her face. _He’s lying_ , her inner doubts tried to tell her while her intrusive thoughts brought to mind their old battles.

“Would you?” she asked, her voice feeling hoarse.

“Yes,” he said, his voice tender and pleading, trying to pull her away from the darkness.

 _If love is the only thing that can open this chakra_... Azula bowed her head and closed her eyes once again. There were so many people she had hurt. So many she had disappointed. She knew for every ounce of grief she felt, she had instilled it in others tenfold. Her family most of all. He insisted that they all still cared about her, that he spoke to them before seeing her. But they were all hundreds of miles away, she had no idea what she would say to them if she saw them, and... Aang was right in front of her. Azula focused on letting the grief go, letting the stream flow. The only thing in her mind’s eye that could combat all of her grief was the face of a man who childhood instinct told her to hate and kill, the man who had taken her from the asylum with the promise of reattaining her firebending. He was the only one on that island who cared about her. Finally, the chakra opened. Messily, but at least the pain in her chest was gone.

His voice greeted her back to the real world. “You have opened the Air chakra.” 

Azula looked away from him, making sure he couldn’t see any more of her tears. “Can we stop for now?”

“Of course, Azula.”

* * *

Aang sat in his tent, holding the scroll Ursa had given him. “I should’ve given this to her before. Why didn’t I give this to her before?” he cursed himself, pressing his palm against his forehead. Aang took a deep breath, and got up. “She already opened three chakras. Why the hell did I wait?”

The yards between their tents felt like miles as he trudged along the sand. He stood frozen outside of her tent for a moment. “Azula,” he called, trying to remain calm.

She answered, opening the tent with a look on her face as if she was the one who had a reason to be awkward. “Yes, avatar?”

“This is for you,” he said, holding the scroll out to her.

Azula raised an eyebrow. “From Zuzu?”

“No.” At a second glance, Azula saw that the wax insignia of its seal was not that of the royal flame, so it couldn’t have come from her brother. “Your mom asked me to give this to you.”

The world spinning beneath them jerked to a sudden stop, and time stood still. The initial shock on Azula’s face slowly curdled into barely restrained anger. “Why did you keep this from me?”

“Because your mother asked me to. She told me to give it to you when I felt you were ready.”

She snatched the scroll from his hand and turned around. If there had been a door to the tent, Aang knew she would have slammed it into his face. He took his leave with a heavy heart. He tried his best to keep his mind occupied with making dinner, but guilt kept pounding away at him. At least Appa and Momo, who noticed how much of a dejected sight he was, kept him company as he cooked. “Thanks guys,” he told them, feeling he didn’t deserve their comfort.

That evening, they all ate in silence. Azula broke the ice immediately after finishing her meal. “Here’s how our conversations will work, avatar,” she said with a stony, almost antagonistic tone in her voice, “for every question I ask of you, you can ask one of me in return. No more, no less.”

The request didn’t sit well with him. To Aang, it lacked the fragile familiarity they had built between each other. It was as if Azula just took three steps away from him and put up a fence between them. He wanted to tell her such conditions were unnecessary, that they could keep speaking casually to one another, but for now he would acquiesce to her demand. “Very well.”

Her first question came easy. “How did you fare when you tried to open the Air chakra? I imagine it came easily to you.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You know why. You’re so in touch with your feelings, and if you’re any indication, the Air Nomads must have been very loving people.”

“Thank you, Azula-”

“Just answer the damn question.”

Appa and Momo both growled at her for snapping at him, but Aang raised a hand to calm them. He put aside his bowl and cup and responded, “When Guru Pathik told me to lay all my grief out in front of me, I thought of the Air Nomads. Monk Gyatso first among them.”

“Who is Monk Gyatso?”

“He was my mentor and my guardian. He raised me.”

That gave Azula a moment’s pause. “I see.”

Aang seized the chance to speak. “Here’s my question for you: would you have preferred that I showed you Ursa’s letter earlier?”

Azula narrowed her gaze at him. With the campfire burning between them, she made for an intimidating sight. “Do you know what she wrote to me?”

“No.”

She hung her head, the light of the fire illuminating her scowl. “She told me we’re a lot alike. Intelligent, prodigious, and born into legacies that asked too much of us. She told me she was sorry for her mistakes, that she wished she had done more. She said she hopes that you, of all people, can give me peace in a way she never did.” Aang saw the fingers resting on her thighs curl into fists. “Everyone thinks I’m so fragile. They’re all so worried that I might go back over the edge.”

“That’s because they care about you, Azula.”

“Well, aren’t I so fortunate to have such loving people in my life,” she derided.

“It’s a good thing the next chakra deals with truth. It’ll help you realize that people’s concern for you is genuine,” he retorted.

They stared at one another for a time, Azula with her icy, almost venomous glare, and Aang with a steadfast expression that wasn’t as soft and sweet as she expected from him. His voice was sterner than normal. It was clear to her that he was starting to show his stubborn side, that he was determined not to let her ruin any of the progress they had made. Part of her knew that what he was doing was for the best, but she was obstinate herself. She had every right to be cross with him, and it didn’t matter if part of her thought he was right. She would never say so out loud. At least to his face.

The silence became too much, and Azula moved on to her next question. “How did you overcome your grief?”

He explained, a touch of gentleness returning to his voice, “It wasn’t necessarily a matter of overcoming my grief. It was more that I needed to accept my feelings and what had happened. It was about understanding that love is a form of energy. It swirls all around us. The love of the Air Nomads is still with me, and I feel it every time I feel love for other people.”

Azula asked her next question without forethought. “That Water Tribe peas-... girl, you always had by your side. Are you and she still together?”

He hesitated only for a moment, but it was enough to send a sudden shiver down Azula’s spine. She was angry with him, and felt justified in that feeling, but the sight of his discomfort didn’t bring her any joy. Perhaps some abruptly thought might contradict that sentiment at some random point in her day, but Azula had done her best to let those desires go. Chiyo had started that process, but the avatar helped it end. If anything, his constant compassion and optimism had become a rock she relied on. Any cracks in that were… unwelcome.

“No,” he replied at last.

A reasonable voice in Azula’s head told her to stop, but she persisted. “Reports said you two were inseparable.”

Aang took a soft but noticeable breath as a small smile came to his lips. Perhaps it had been their time together, or maybe it was just her old insightfulness, but she could tell when the smile he defaulted too was a somber one, rather than the genuinely joyful one that normally adorned his face. “I will always love Katara, and she’ll always love me. If it weren’t for her, I would still be stuck in an iceberg. Sometimes, the nature of love between people can change. But that doesn’t mean that it weakened.”

There was a story that he wasn’t telling her. Instinct that had been drilled into her by her father and childhood teachers told her to keep prying. Perhaps she could learn something personal that she could use. And yet, she could not force herself to delve further into the matter. She would not pry into any old wound that the avatar carried. All she asked was, “So where is she now?”

“With Toph.”

“Doing what? Errands for my brother?”

“Living it up in Omashu. Katara is an ambassador, working to help the Southern Water Tribe, and Toph is teaching earthbenders at her dojo. They’re pretty happy together.”

Azula paused. “‘Together?’”

He nodded. “Late night dinners in front of the fireplace, surprise visits at the dojo or office, the whole shebang.”

Once, the personal lives of her enemies were once only so relevant as to give her insights on how to manipulate and destroy them. But without the war, without the drive to dominate those around her, all Azula had was a feeling of genuine surprise. “First she bags the avatar, then she grabs an earthbending prodigy. I can respect someone who only picks the best.”

Aang burst out into laughter. It was still strange to Azula how welcoming the sound was, even in the midst of such a tense conversation. Their time on the island was starting to get to her. If nothing else, the avatar was funnier than any healer at Doiyasu had ever been.

“Do you ever wonder…”

Aang raised his eyebrows. “Wonder what?”

“It’s nothing.”

He must have seen through her, for he elaborated on his own accord. “It took a long time after we split before I could bring myself to think about what went wrong. In retrospect, there were little things that coalesced over time. But at the heart of it was that the world pulled us in different directions. My duties as the avatar and the responsibilities she assumed for the Southern Water Tribe kept us apart for long stretches of time. We knew there’d be a few bumps in the road beforehand. We were ready for a long distance relationship. We were ready to… to delay certain plans we had made. But then the months apart started to feel like years, and the days we had to ourselves felt like hours. In those private moments we had, my mind couldn’t help but stray elsewhere to other matters, and I suspect Katara faced a similar problem.

“In the end… I had a duty to the world, and Katara had a duty to her people, and, without even knowing it before it was too late, we had put those duties ahead of ourselves, and ahead of each other. The greatest challenges that I have faced as the avatar have been when the demands of my responsibilities conflicted with my personal wants and needs. I always found a way to stay true to what I believe in, whether because I was quick, or clever, or willing to accept help from unexpected sources. But sometimes… sometimes certain outcomes aren’t avoided, even if both people do their best to dodge them.”

“So, it was mutual? An amicable separation?”

“Yes. But it still hurt.”

Azula looked away from him. This was now the second time that he had opened up to her like this. She left Doiyasu with the belief that he would be tending to her old wounds, not that she would help address any of his. It frustrated her how her life still could be so unpredictable. _But a princess honors the debts she owes_ , a helpful thought reminded her. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry things didn’t work out with her,” trying her best to sound as comforting as he usually was.

“Thank you, Azula,” Aang replied, his voice low.

She took a slow, calming breath. “You weren’t wrong to hold on to my mother’s letter. If you had led with it back at the asylum, I’m… I don’t know how I would have reacted.”

“But you’re still upset with me for keeping it from you.”

She let out a brief note of laughter. “Ain’t it a bitch when you’re of two minds on a subject? How simpler my life would be if my brain felt just one way about every little thing.”

“One of the joys of being human, I guess,” the avatar shrugged.

“Being human is overrated. I’d rather be a dragon.”

“Oh?” he said, her comment bringing some joy back to his smile.

“Of course. The history books never said anything about the dragons dealing with trauma or blocked chakras. I could fly of my accord, and burn anything that upsets me to cinders.”

“And teach humans the sacred art of firebending?”

She gave him a half shrug. “I’d prefer if mortals treated me like a goddess.”

“Maybe they should offer you piping hot tea if they want your blessing.”

She gave him a side eye and a smirk. “You’re really never gonna let that go, are you?”

“I can forgive many things, my princess,” he said, giving her a mock bow. “But an insult upon my tea is an insult upon my honor.”

The pair laughed together. She had started this conversation furious with him, and now they were chortling at his jokes. The avatar could charm the batbirds off their branches. “Can we move on to the fifth chakra tomorrow?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yes. I think you’re ready for it.”

“Very good,” she replied, rising to her feet. “Good night, avatar.”

“Good night, Azula.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♪ At least out loud, I won't say I'm in... love♪ 
> 
> On a more serious note, one of the struggles I had with this fic was wanting to explore an azulaang AU while honoring the canon of the original series and doing right by kataang (which is one of my favorite ships). I had a hard time finding an interpretation where I felt that I didn't disrespect a ship that I love while writing for another that I've recently become very into. A skilled writer that I know (irresistible-revolution, who you should all check out) gave me a great piece of advice, that for this AU to work I would have to ask myself what would kataang not give each other that azulaang could. Maybe it's not the perfect answer, but it is the one that helped me keep writing.
> 
> (Just as a side note, because there was a typo on chapter 1's notes that was left uncorrected for a while, this is only original series compliant. LoK and comics are not canon in this fic)
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> -A.F.S.M.A.S.


	8. Sound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone. Before you begin, I wanted to place a trigger warning for this chapter as it deals with a sensitive subject matter. Those who have been reading know that the themes of mental illness, trauma, and therapy are prevalent throughout. If you feel you don’t need a trigger warning for anything and wish to continue unspoiled in any way, please skip the rest of this note.
> 
> This chapter specifically has a trigger warning for a discussion on a character’s past history with suicide.  
> Be safe, be kind to yourself, and enjoy the chapter.  
> Sincerely,  
> A.F.S.M.A.S.

Appa awoke from a restful night to an unexpected sight: Azula standing in front of his stone hut with an orange melon in her arms. Naturally startled, he rose to his feet while growling through bared teeth.

“No tricks, bison. I promise,” she claimed, laying the orange melon on the ground before him and backing away. He eyed it curiously before looking back at her. The air between them was tensely silent for a while until the woman in red and black braved a question that she suspected she already knew the answer to. “You’re capable of understanding human speech, aren’t you?”

Appa let out a quick, sharp breath from his nostrils. Flying bison possessed intelligence that was unmatched by most creatures of the natural world, and their wisdom was said by the monks of old to exceed that of many humans. While he might not have a complete dictionary’s worth of vocabulary, Appa was able to understand most conversations, had an excellent memory, and had considerable insight when a human was speaking niceties but hiding sharp teeth beneath their sweet tone.

“He told me you’re fond of these,” she said, gesturing to the melon and putting on a smile that was as awkward for her as it was for him. Though he was craving breakfast and had rarely got to indulge in his favorite snack immediately upon waking, Appa made no move toward the gift from the woman who had nearly set him on fire and attacked his family on several occasions. She continued, “It’s imperative that the avatar and I remain on respectful terms, even if I do tease him relentlessly and enjoy every minute of it.” She let out a little chuckle that, even if he could laugh, Appa would not have shared in.

When it became clear to her that he wasn’t going to budge, Azula took a deep breath, and lowered herself to one knee and bowed her head, saying, “I know you don’t have a reason to trust me. Most days, I don’t even trust myself. To be honest, I fully deserve the hostility you’ve shown me. But I did not come here to work against the avatar. I have no intention of hurting him, you, or the lemur.”

He stared at her for a moment, carefully judging this surprising display. Aang was nice to her, despite their history, which was the only reason why Appa tolerated her being anywhere near his oldest friend. Throughout their time together, Appa would watch them carefully for any sign of aggression or malicious intent, and always felt a great deal of anxiety whenever Aang went off alone with her. It was confusing to both Appa and Momo whenever Azula got a laugh out of Aang, though they knew he did always have a knack for connecting with people, even ones he had fought in the past. While he never doubted Aang’s decisions, Appa’s instincts kept him on edge whenever Azula was around. But in this moment, he could see she was sincere. It was hard to reconcile that this was the same woman from that forest battle so long ago. Finally, while keeping a suspicious glare on her the whole time, Appa slowly reached forward and grabbed the melon with his teeth, bringing it back into his hut where he slowly chewed on it while maintaining eye contact.

“Alright,” Azula told herself. “That could’ve gone worse.”

The lemur was an easier matter, though maybe that was because Azula didn’t have to worry about him stomping her to death. She laid out a series of small piles of nuts, fruits, even some pastries out for him and took a seat nearby. He scurried over each pile, quickly devouring the food. She repeated this throughout the day, and each time Momo hungrily accepted the offerings. Azula did make one mistake. She pushed her luck a little too far and attempted to pet him behind his ear, and received a nipped finger for her efforts.

“Well, at least your teeth aren’t as big as his,” Azula muttered, rubbing her injured digit.

The avatar didn’t mention anything throughout their daily chores, but something about the extra gleam in his smile that day made it perfectly clear that he knew she was trying to make amends to his companions.

Over the many days they had spent on the island, Azula had taken to going to her own private little stretch of beach to train. She was dead set on rebuilding the musculature that had been lost in Doiyasu Asylum, so that she could be both physically and mentally ready for the return of her firebending. She would take breaks from her training only to watch the avatar go through his. The way he could seamlessly change his physicality to suit the differing natures of the elements he was bending was a sight to behold, and the fact that his wardrobe showed off his arms and some of his chest was… a bonus, Azula admitted to herself. Of course, she wouldn’t let the avatar pick up any notion that she had such opinions. He must have been aware of just how handsome he was, but she knew he would be absolutely incorrigible if he suspected she thought the same way.

Much to her lack of surprise, she enjoyed watching him firebend most of all. There was a twinge of envy in her as he demonstrated an ability that was still denied to her, and some of her uglier thoughts ran with it, prodding at her as she watched him. Yet, a certain admiration she felt for him provided a buffer between her and those thoughts. He used such a unique form, one that utilized motions that almost soared through the air and footwork that seemed more akin to a dance than to firebending. Any aggression he might have felt in his strikes was firmly leashed.

“Where did you learn to firebend like that?” she asked.

“Sifu Zuko,” he replied, cheekily, while letting off one last fireball into the air.

“I’ve seen Zuko’s forms, and I noticed how it changed over the years. He moved like you the last time we dueled, though he was far more ferocious.”

“Yeah,” Aang shrugged, “Zuko always tried to get me to be fiercer in firebending, but I prefer my way.”

“I pity the fool who ever invokes true aggression within you.”

The sudden almost uneasy quality in his smile and the way he briefly looked away from her told Azula that someone had invoked such rage from him before. She guessed that poor soul had to have been her father. 

“So where did the two of you learn that form?”

“I’m sorry, Azula, but I can’t tell you that.”

She raised her brow. “Keeping secrets, avatar?”

He gave her a reassuring smile. “Maybe someday you’ll find out.”

But all good things come to an end. On another day as she watched him practice again, she noticed a red patch of skin on his back poking over his loose robe. Azula almost wrote it off as nothing, until her mind thrashed her with the memory of the battle underneath Ba Sing Se. “Did…” she began to say, only to stop herself. In the back of her mind, Azula wondered how she could have missed it when he had gone shirtless around her, or when they went surfing on the shark whale. Her anxiety finally shoved the rest of her words past her unwilling lips. “Did you get that scar on your back from me?”

He froze half way through his technique. Azula saw a brief flash of anguish on his face, as if he was the one who had made a mistake, who had reason to regret. “Yes,” he reluctantly admitted.

When she stood up, he began stepping towards her with an outstretched hand. “Azula-”

“It’s fine, avatar. I have to return to my own training anyway.” Azula left him, and spent the rest of the day cursing herself.

* * *

Three days had passed since Azula opened her Air chakra. After midday, Aang brought her to a secluded spot on the north of the island where some rubble of the original temple that survived Roku’s rampage remained.

“The Sound chakra resides in the throat. It deals with truth, and is blocked by lies. Think of the lies you have told yourself.”

Azula folded her hands together, and focused.

Her mind brought forth a vision of herself, standing atop the deck of her warship. The words of Lo and Li rang in her ears as a single out of place hair dangled in front of her eyes.

_“Almost isn’t good enough.”_

“I’m not perfect,” she said aloud. In her youth, she would never have dreamed of uttering such words. Time truly had changed her for good.

“You are powerful, Azula,” she heard him say. “Skill is not something to be ashamed of. It is how we see and use our abilities that determines their true worth.”

“Did your monks tell you that?” she asked. “Did you never fear disappointing them? Did you never feel the urge to execute a bending technique flawlessly?”

“I did work hard, and there were a few days that I pushed myself too hard,” he relented, “but Monk Gyatso once told me something that I’ll never forget. Perfection is overrated. It only stands in the way of being truly excellent. If you’re focused on being perfect, you’ll lose sight of the progress you’ve made, of the lessons that failure can teach you, and of the fun you get out of bending your element.”

Azula couldn’t help but sardonically smile at her own expense, and at the irony of her situation. The avatar was finishing the work started long ago of dismantling her old sense of self and purpose so that something better might be made, and yet he still praised her for her power, the bedrock of the monster she used to be. “My teachers never emphasized that aspect of firebending.”

“Then you could use a new teacher.”

“And that would be you?” she asked in a bantering tone.

“I think we could both teach each other a thing or two.”

She froze, realizing that he meant it. The idea of training with him once her firebending was back was… not an unpleasant idea. Azula centered herself and took a deep breath, focusing again on the chakra and the lump that was building in her throat.

The next memory brought her to a beach, staring into the embers of a dying campfire.

_“My own mother... thought I was a monster.”_

“She was right.”

Azula half expected him to dismiss her words with some platitude to make her feel better, but experience had taught her that the avatar rarely did the expected. Instead he gently asked, “Why do you say that?”

“You’ve done your research, avatar. You already know the answer.”

“Maybe I know what others might say, but I don’t have your thoughts on the matter.”

Azula calmly breathed, collecting her thoughts before answering him. “Zuko was mom’s golden child. He always played fair, was always thinking of others, never gave up on something just because it was hard. He never took delight in tormenting those around him. Even when he was striving to gain our father’s approval, he never allowed that to change who he truly was inside. He was everything I wasn’t. Given how I turned out, and all the terrible things I’ve done to people, it’s hard to really blame her for thinking that.”

“Your mother loves you, Azula,” he told her, his voice so gentle and loving that it hurt her. 

How could it not? The avatar was everything she wasn’t, and his light seemed so alien to the darkness that she had grown accustomed to. Every day, Azula ran the risk of being interrupted with a terrible thought. Sometimes she’d be sitting around, doing nothing at all, only for her mind to suddenly plague her with some vile image or idea. Some of the most common involved her doubts that anyone cared about her, and her fears that she would never improve. It took little prompting for the darkest reaches of her mind to tell her that she was a monster, and that any assertions to the contrary from the people around her were lies. “Tell that to every intrusive thought in my head,” she told him.

“Do you believe those thoughts?”

Azula opened her eyes, giving him a surprised look. “What?”

“When the darker parts of your mind make you question yourself, when they belittle or undermine you, do you believe them? Or do you push back?”

She looked away from him. “...I push back,” she answered, almost begrudgingly.

“If you knew that I carried similar burdens, that I had mental ills like you, what would you say to me?”

“I’m nothing like you, avatar-”

He cut her off. “Masters of our native elements at a young age, born with greater responsibilities than others, and we both wound up rather good looking adults.”

She would have laughed, but today wasn’t one of her good days. She knew it wouldn’t be when she first woke up. They probably could’ve started much earlier if Azula hadn’t felt too weak to even get out of bed to eat breakfast. “Avatar, you’ve never been cruel or manipulative. Even if you have regrets, you’ve never been like me. You don’t-”

He cut her off again, his voice gentle but steadfast. “Yes, but if you heard me talk about myself the way you do yourself, if you knew that the same inner demons were plaguing me, what would you say?”

Azula took a deep breath. “If I knew that there were days where you didn’t want to get out bed in the morning, that you had a swarm of doubts in your mind that constantly belittled you and reminded you of all the horrible things you’ve done, that you once… that you have questioned the value of your entire life, I would say that’s terrible and that you don’t deserve to feel that way or experience such things.”

“So if others don’t deserve to treat themselves so poorly, why should you treat yourself that way? If you wouldn’t accept me beating myself up, why should I accept such behaviors and words from you?”

At last she felt she could look him in the eye, giving him a sarcastically annoyed expression. “Just once, I’d love for you to agree with my self-loathing. Just for the change of pace.”

“Ah, but that would be a lie, and the Sound chakra deals in truth.”

Azula let out a groan mixed in with her laughter. “You missed your calling to be a therapist, avatar.”

“Technically, I’m the world’s therapist.”

She nodded, admitting the point. “Tell me of when you opened the Sound chakra,” she asked.

“I accepted that, regardless of how I once avoided it, I was the avatar.”

“So you got to accept that you were the world’s savior, and I have to accept that I am… I was a liar, fiend, and killer.”

“You must also accept the truth that you have already started the hard work of changing yourself into a better person,” he countered.

Azula looked away from him again. It had been the same way with Chiyo. Even if she could recognize another’s care for what it was, something about her illness made it hard to look someone in the eye as they were being kind to her. “No one can change their past, avatar,” she said, trying to push him away. “Not even you.”

“True. But the past doesn’t change the present, and the present truth is that you’re on an island with me, working through all of your turmoil.”

“How do I open this?” she asked, feeling exhausted despite how little she had done that day.

His answer was simple. “It's as I said. Accept the truth that you’ve come here to remake yourself. That you have the opportunity to choose who you want to become. That you are the master of your own destiny.”

Azula closed her eyes again, her mind buzzing with activity. She focused on his words, trying to envision the person she wanted to be. The chakra opened, releasing the swelling sensation in her throat. When she opened her eyes, she was greeted by his nodding smile. “That one opened a little more smoothly than the last ones.”

She shrugged. “If you say so.”

* * *

Azula had been quiet for the rest of the day. That made Aang more than a little worried, but he accepted her help around camp without letting her know. There wasn’t much left to do, and the soup would take a while to cook, so without enough to engage her Azula went off to her private corner of the beach.

She reappeared behind him as he sat at the shore, his feet dipped into the water.

“May I join you?”

“Of course,” Aang replied, patting the sand next to him.

Azula took a seat to his left, just out of arm’s reach. “I’ve noticed that you’ve watched almost every sunset since we came here. What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing, really. I just like watching them to clear my mind and relax.”

“I wish I had luxury. To be able to be by myself, without even my thoughts to keep me company.”

“I could show you other meditation techniques that could help.”

“Some of the healers at Doiyasu tried to do that. I turned them down every time.”

“Never too late to learn.”

She was silent for a second. Aang eyed her curiously, seeing the conflict going on inside her head. It was as if she was working up the courage to say something. “Perhaps some other time," she said at last, "but there’s something more pressing that I need to talk to you about.”

“What is it?

“I’m only going to say this once, so listen well.”

“Okay,” Aang replied, unsure of what she was about to say.

Azula took in one slow breath before speaking. “You were right.”

“About what?”

“You said that I had given into despair. That I gave up hope, that I stopped caring. I did give up. My inner fire was extinguished years ago, and with it gone I lost my connection to my firebending. When that happened, I broke. I didn’t even know I could break any further, but I did. I… I tried to kill myself.”

She couldn’t bear to look at him as she said it. Her mind’s eye clearly envisioned the anguish that had overtaken his face, and she heard it in his voice as he said, “Azula, I’m so sorry.”

“Following that, it was easier to pretend that I didn’t care. About myself, about my bending, about everything that had happened to me. Eventually, I did relent to Chiyo and the other doctors’ attempts to work with me. I started to open up bit by bit, but not enough. I stopped getting worse, but I wasn’t really getting any better. Day after day in that place I was only surviving. Just to wake up alive each morning felt like a miracle.”

“But now you have a chance to learn how to live again. To heal the wounds that have been inflicted on you, by yourself and by others. To earn forgiveness-”

“I don’t want the world’s forgiveness, avatar. I don’t need it.”

Aang showed his surprise plainly on his face, but he put it aside to ask, “Then what do you want, Azula?”

Azula looked out into the horizon, her steely gaze giving Aang much to read into. “I want to be able to live without the temptation to end it all. I want to regain the strength needed to brush off every damn vile thought my brain throws at me. I want my fire back. I want my honor back.”

“And what of your family?”

For a moment, Aang feared he went too far. The sudden spark of anger on her face that she slowly focused on him drove that fear home. “What would you know of family? The history books said that airbenders aren’t raised by their parents.”

“Not by our biological parents, no. But we are raised by the communities around us. In a way, I had dozens of fathers, mothers, and other parents.”

“Did you ever fear you’d disappoint them?”

He nodded. “Sometimes.”

Azula looked away for a moment, digging her fingers into her knee. Her anger had started to cool, only for it to light up again. “How could you have spared my father? If… if I had loved ones and some foreign army had taken them from me, I would have visited a war upon them and their descendants the likes of which this world has never seen.”

Aang did not waver in his response. “It was the love of my people that gave me the strength to spare Ozai. The monks taught me that all life is precious. And the bonds I had made with my friends helped me to make peace with my grief.”

Azula lowered her head, thinking of her Air chakra and what had finally opened it. 

“Remember how I told you that Zuko was the one who told me of your progress?" he reminded her. "Maybe you two could speak someday and patch things up."

Azula folded her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. “How would that even go? ‘Hello, brother. Sorry about all those times where I was the absolute worst to you. Like that time I shot you in the chest during the Agni Kai!’”

“To be fair, that’s a far less awkward apology than what he said the first time he tried to join us.”

Azula laughed. Even when she didn’t want to, he could somehow worm his way past her defenses and tickle her funny bone. “Maybe I should just get you to handle talking to my family. You would do it far better than I would.”

Aang smiled, but didn’t laugh. Though she meant it as a joke, he could see past it, that she was avoiding the issue. “You may not be ready now, but I think you can talk to Zuko someday, as well as your uncle and mother.”

Azula’s smile deflated with a sigh. “What would she and I even talk about?”

“About what happened to you. To her. The world. You could talk about your feelings.”

She cocked her head as her lips formed a mocking smirk. “Talking about feelings is for children, nomads, and childish nomads.”

The avatar retorted with a playful smile of his own. “And for princesses who have done great work to overcome hardship and process their mental turmoil.”

“Your optimism is touching.”

The air between them became quiet. He suspected she was hoping she’d say something else to make her laugh or encourage her, but Aang wanted Azula to stop beating around the bush, to address her problem herself. He could see she finally succumbed to the silence, much as part of her wished to stop opening up. Azula turned from him to look back at the setting sun. “My mother’s letter said we were both born into legacies that demanded too much of us. I guess I would ask her why she thinks that.”

Aang froze. Now it was her turn to study him. He hadn't planned on being the one to tell her, as it was a family matter for her, but there was nothing he could do. She caught him, and he knew how insightful she was. She would see through any attempt to backtrack or skirt around the issue. “Azula, how well do you know your family tree?” Aang asked.

She stared at him, confused. The reverence shown to lineage was a universal trait among royalty and nobility. It was how they earned their prestige, how they laid claim to all that was theirs. Azula learned that in her history courses. Through her father, she was the descendant of an unbroken chain of dominant fire lords. And her mother was a noblewoman, who she was sure came from… 

Azula paused. A memory played in her head, one of her as a girl asking her teacher a question of her mother's origin. When she pressed him, trying to manipulate and scare him into confessing, the uneasy tutor admitted that the information was sealed on her father’s orders. Unwilling to potentially displease her father by asking him directly, Azula had dropped it. But now she had someone to answer her old question.

“You know something I don’t.”

Aang answered, “Sozin was your paternal great-grandfather, but your maternal great-grandfather was my predecessor, Avatar Roku.”

Azula was speechless. _He has to be lying_ , a thought told her, but upon consideration she realized it made perfect sense. Arranging to have the bloodline of Roku added to the royal line was a master stroke, but one that required secrecy, for it also had the potential to prove to be a politically sensitive matter to say the least. The state approved version of history said that Roku died during a sudden volcanic eruption on his home island, bravely holding off the lava as his wife and neighbors escaped. Fire Lord Sozin had arranged a public memorial at the capital, detailing the long friendship he had with Roku and how they had recently reconciled following a period of estrangement. In front of the gathered mourners, Sozin handed Ta Min, Roku’s widow, the deed to one of his own Ember Island mansions, promising to look after her in Roku's name. Sozin famously, or perhaps infamously in retrospect, declared at the ceremony that his greatest regret was that his oldest friend would miss the beginning of a new golden age for not just the Fire Nation, but for the entire world.

Azula’s time at the asylum gave her more than enough time for reflection. How many lies had she been told, not only by her family but by the empire she had once hoped to rule? When she accepted his proposal, she anticipated that her time with the avatar might enlighten her on some of the questions that plagued her, but now that she had received such an enormous revelation, Azula felt that she had been hurled into the sea without a raft. Without meaning to, she began to speak aloud, “So, Zuko really did take after mom’s side of the family. And I took after my fa-”

“Sozin left Roku to die,” he cut her off, almost startling her. The same firm compassion in his voice as before, whenever he stopped her from giving into doubt or fear or self-loathing, was like a safety net. One that Azula felt she did not deserve, but knew she needed in her life. “After everything they went through together, after sparing his life, Sozin still abandoned his friend when he needed him most, and then spent the rest of his life wreaking havoc and horror upon the world. If a reasonable person ever speaks of him from now until the end of time, it will be only to say how much of a monster he was.

“But you’re not him. You didn’t deserve to be born into that kind of legacy. Terrible things have happened to you, and you have done terrible things, but you have turned yourself around. You took control of your destiny. You’re here now, with me, working to rebuild and remake yourself. I believe that you can redeem yourself, Azula. And so long as I live, I’ll make sure history remembers that.”

Azula gave him a small smile. “Well, I guess with you in my corner, I shouldn’t worry about my own legacy.”

A sudden shriek from behind rang through the air. They turned to find Momo standing near the pot, clutching a burned paw. Beneath him lay a hot mushroom, with broth staining the sand around him.

“I think our soup is done,” Aang said. “Ready to eat?”

“When we get to the mainland, I’m going to a restaurant that serves nothing but meat and ordering everything off the menu.”

“Vegetarianism is a long and proud tradition of the Air Nomads, princess.”

“And I respect that. ...to a reasonable extent.”

He laughed again, and she couldn’t stop herself from joining him.


	9. Light

Months ago…

“It’s good to see you again, Aang,” greeted Guru Pathik. As Appa gently nuzzled up against him, the aged sage laughed. “And you as well, Appa.” Momo let out a cry, offended that he hadn’t been greeted yet, but a scratching underneath his chin and an apology pacified the lemur.

The quartet walked together to a courtyard on the western side of the temple, an area where the nuns used to introduce young airbenders to the flying bison that would accompany them for the rest of their lives. As he took in the silence of the morning, Aang came to the realization that such days as this were coming to an end. The Air Acolytes had already begun the process of repairing the Southern Air Temple, and Teo was leading the effort to synchronize the changes his people had made with Aang’s vision for the restoration of the Northern Air Temple. Both the Western and Eastern temples were still untouched and empty, save for Guru Pathik alone, but that would eventually change. One day, all four temples would be buzzing again with life, just as they had been in his childhood. Aang hoped Guru Pathik would live long enough to see it.

He wasn’t exactly spry when they first met, but there had still been considerable energy in Guru Pathik, a subdued strength that suited a man of such wisdom. But, at last, time was taking its due. Aang could see how Pathik was moving slower than before, how he had little twitches that he tried to hide whenever he bent over or stretched in a certain way, and how there was a comparative sluggishness in his voice now. It was strange to think that a man over a century old was finally starting to show his age, but he was. When the guru would eventually pass on one day, Aang would be the last person to carry on Monk Gyatso’s memory.

“How goes your restoration project?” Pathik asked, gesturing for Aang to sit beside him at a low wooden table where a clay teapot was ready for them. “Should I be expecting some acolytes any day now?”

Aang put aside his melancholy, hiding it under his joyful anticipation. “The Northern and Southern temples are coming along great. I was hoping we’d have more acolytes by now, but the growth in our numbers has slowed. Don’t worry. When the acolytes finally come here, the east will be just like it used to be.”

“But it won’t,” Guru Pathik replied with a gentle smile to soften what he knew would land as a blow. As Aang stared at him in surprise, Pathik elaborated, “The temples you and I once knew are gone. The buildings have remained, if cracked and burned in a few places, but the voices that echo through these halls will be different. It’s people that make the cultures around them. You can teach them all you know and guide them as best you can, but it will be new lives and new ideas that will shape the future of Air Nomad culture. That doesn’t make it worse or better. It is something new born from the ashes of the old. The Air Nomads will live on, just not as you and I knew them.”

Aang hung his head, then gave the old sage an accepting, if somber, nod. “I guess that’s true.”

Guru Pathik lifted the pot and began pouring their tea. Aang could see his arm shake as he did, and the tea that came out the spout fell in a wavering stream that splashed around in the cups. Aang felt the urge to offer to do it for them, but he stopped himself. As noble as his consideration was, he didn’t want to make Pathik feel like a coddled old man.

“I always appreciate a visit from you, Aang,” he said, “but I feel that you’ve come here today with a purpose.”

Aang shifted in his seat. The stone pavement he sat on suddenly felt harder. “I’ve come here to ask you if you could show me how I can help others open their chakras. Just like how you helped me.”

Pathik raised a surprised brow. “Does this someone you wish to help have a name?”

He hesitated only for an instance, but it was enough to chip away some of his confidence. “Her name is Azula. She’s a princess of the Fire Nation who has lost her connection to her firebending..”

The guru calmly put down the teapot. “A Fire Nation princess?”

Aang rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, she and I… we used to fight each other during the war.”

“I see,” he said, taking a slow sip of tea. “And you want to help this woman regain her firebending?”

“I know it sounds a little crazy, but-... I know it sounds very crazy, but after the war she was sent to an asylum. She’s had a difficult life, and she suffered a mental breakdown at the end of the war. Over the past few years, she’s opened up to her healers and responded to therapy. But she’s stagnated, and she has lost her connection to her bending. I think, if she’s to truly recover from what happened to her, she has to restore that connection. It’s a vital part of who she is.”

Pathik stroked his beard. “Opening the chakras can restore an imbalance that blocks a person from their bending. But if that is what you want, why not bring her to me?”

Aang responded, “Respectfully, Guru Pathik, Azula has been under the care of people who were strangers to her for eight years now. The healers of Doiyasu have done great work, they say Azula is in a solid place now. But I think if she’s to get better, she needs someone she knows. Her relationships with her mother, uncle, and brother are too… contentious, for lack of a better word. I think I’m the only person who can reach her.”

Guru Pathik gave him a contemplative look, and Aang could tell that he wasn’t just thinking over the plan presented to him. “Tell me what you remember of the chakras, Aang.”

Aang went through each chakra, their location, what the emotion they concerned, and what blocked them. Guru Pathik nodded along, pleased with the thoroughness of his descriptions. When Aang finished, he asked, “Aang, do you remember how, as you went through your own chakras, I was able to see and feel what you were experiencing?”

“Yes,” Aang replied, a twinge of nervousness building in his voice.

“That came from a lifetime of meditation and study of connecting to the energy of the universe. It took me years to learn to sense another’s chi, to discover what burdened their spirit, and to help them purify their energy. To guide someone through a journey like that, you must be resolute of mind. You must put aside any and all preconceptions. You must be constant, patient, thoughtful, and ready to brave darkness to bring light to another.” 

“I’m ready to learn, Guru Pathik,” Aang insisted.

Guru Pathik did not mean to discourage Aang, but he would tell the avatar the entirety of the depth of the task that he wished to undertake. “For a new teacher, opening another’s chakras can be just as intense for them as it is for their subject. Are you prepared to possibly learn or see something you might not wish to find?”

“I am. If it will mean helping Azula, I’m ready.”

“And are you prepared to go through such a journey with this princess? To know what plagues her, feel her hurt, and guide her to the place she needs to be in order to open the chakras?”

“I am, Guru Pathik.”

Pathik nodded, acknowledging Aang’s commitment. He had only one further question for him, and it was one that part of Aang wanted to avoid. “What led to this, Aang? Why do you want to ”

And so he told Guru Pathik of the vision he received in Kokkanzo Forest. It had been less than a year since that day, but for Aang it felt like it was yesterday. The sights and sounds of it had revisited him every night since in his dreams.

Pathik listened in silence. When Aang finished, he commented, “That is quite a sign from the universe. You’re right. It does have to be you that guides her on this journey.”

“You once told me that you had a vision of helping me,” Aang continued, trying to veer the conversation away from himself. “Can you tell me about it?”

A nostalgic smile grew on Pathik’s lips. “I saw myself as I was at the time, a spry 112 year old man, walking alone until I reached a temple I had never seen before. I entered and meditated upon one of its stone terraces. Gradually, time began to move faster and faster around me. Days were but seconds, the sun and moon were just lights flying above me. Winter, spring, summer, and fall became moments instead of months. I saw myself gradually grow thinner as my skin wrinkled, my hair grew longer and longer until it finally fell out, and my beard turned white. Then, just before the vision ended, the progress of time slowed to normal, and I was joined by a young man who had the same tattoos as my old friend, Gyatso. The four elements danced around this man at his command. My vision finally ended with him taking a seat in front of me, asking, ‘Please. I need your help.’”

“How did your vision make you feel?”

Guru Pathik’s smile grew wider. “I was glad. You don’t live as long as I do without wondering what it is that you’re living for. After the Fire Nation attacked the Air temples, despair followed me like a killer in the night. It was always there, just out of sight whenever I turned to look, but never far behind. I continued my work to help other travelers I met in my journeys, giving wisdom to any who sought it, but grief continued to hang on to me with the weight of iron chains. Then I received that vision, and I knew there was still more I could do for this world. The universe reminded me that there was still hope.”

Aang leaned back, overwhelmed. His flight from home had long been a source of guilt. Even after opening his Water chakra, there were still a few times he caught himself thinking of that decision, and would wonder about the path he did not take. Such thoughts were fleeting, however. The path he had chosen to walk had led to Katara, Sokka, Toph, Zuko, Suki, and the good life he now had. _Even when I was frozen, I still brought people hope_ , Aang thought, realizing how fitting it was that Guru Pathik had been the one who taught him to forgive himself for that fateful decision.

“I imagine your predecessor had quite a lot to say about your vision,” guessed Guru Pathik.

“Yes, he did.” Roku had been the first person that Aang had turned to after receiving his vision. The advice Roku had given was still giving Aang much to think on.

“Then, I will show you what I can so that you can help this Princess Azula.”

“Thank you, Guru Pathik,” Aang replied, bowing his head.

* * *

The Present…

Aang awoke and emerged from his tent to an astonishing discovery. He found Azula, not only awake and active before him, but also attending the tea pot over the burning campfire. For a split second, he ecstatically thought she lit the fire herself, but then noticed the open tinderbox laying next to her knee. “Well, this is a nice surprise.”

“Don’t read into it,” she said, carefully picking the pot up with a pair of thick rags and pouring them both a cup. “A princess knows to repay acts that are done for her. This is just a way of evening the score between us.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Azula. But I’ll gladly take a cup of tea.” Aang cheerfully took a drink, and did his best to maintain his smile after tasting Azula’s tea. “This is great!”

She grimaced. “You’re a terrible liar, avatar.” She took a sip of her tea, and then spat it out. “How the hell does uncle do this!?”

“It takes time. I’m sure if you work at it-”

“Spare me.”

He took a seat at their campfire, closer to her than they normally sat, grabbed an apple from a nearby sack, and took another drink.

“You don’t have to keep drinking that,” she told him.

He shook his head in defiance. “This tea is… rough, but it has one redeeming quality.”

“And what quality would that be?”

“The irony of it.”

She raised an eyebrow, questioning his choice of words.

He explained, “The irony that my own teamaking was denounced by someone who would unleash something like this on another person.”

Without thinking, Azula tossed a handful of sand at him. The sounds of their shared laughter could be heard all along the shore.

* * *

For the next chakra, Aang had something special for Azula. For lack of a nice cliff that Guru Pathik took him to for his own chakra, Aang spent an hour forming a platform on the island’s western edge. He hollowed out a shallow moat around the edge, forming a circle within a circle, and filled it with water. At four points within the boundary of the moat he placed four torches and ignited them with his firebending. They were high up enough to catch a strong breeze, and thankfully it was a windy day. The symbolism of his work was not lost on Azula when he showed it to her.

They sat in the center of the platform and began. “The Light chakra is located in the center of the forehead. It deals with insight, and is blocked by illusions.”

“This chakra seems redundant,” she cut in. “Truth and insight, lies and illusions. What’s the difference?”

“The Sound chakra concerns the lies we have told ourselves. The Light chakra concerns misunderstandings about the world around us. Guru Pathik taught me that the greatest illusion of all is that of separation. Four elements, four nations, but we are all a part of the same world. We are one people, connected, even if we act to the contrary.”

“Well, isn’t that a touching perspective,” she said, with a friendlier sarcasm than she had used with him just a few weeks ago.

“I also met a swampbender once who didn’t wear pants and compared the world to a giant tree, of which we are all branches of.”

Azula looked at him with horrified shock. “I know you’re not lying when you say shit like that, but every time you open your mouth and hit me with the most baffling anecdotes I’ve ever heard I wish you were.”

Aang laughed. “That’s not even the craziest story I could tell you, but another time.” Aang brought his hands together for meditation, and Azula mirrored him. “Think of the illusions that have distorted your view of the world. What misunderstandings cloud your judgment?”

Azula took a deep breath and focused on the answer.

The first vision came on suddenly. She was a girl once again, arguing with her brother.

_“A real general would stay and burn Ba Sing Se to the ground, not lose the battle and come home crying.”_

With a flash she was a teenager, standing in the throne room of Ba Sing Se’s great palace. At the bottom of the throne’s steps stood the soon-to-be deposed leader of the Dai Li.

_“But true power, the divine right to rule, is something you’re born with.”_

In the span of a blink, blue flames surrounded her, burning intensely without rhyme or reason before finally settling into twin fire walls in front and behind her. Her old mentors were kneeling before her. It was supposed to be the greatest day of her life, but that was a lie. 

_“He thinks I can’t handle the responsibility of being Fire Lord. But I will be the greatest leader in Fire Nation history.”_

She opened her eyes and looked to Aang. “I guess you expect me to say that the war was a lie, that it did nothing but cause harm and unbalance.”

His answer surprised her. “I only knew the final year of the war. You grew up in it.”

Azula sighed. She knew him well enough by now that it was her own perspective and experiences that he wanted to hear, regardless if he knew the answer already or not. “Fire Lord Sozin started the war to spread the prosperity that the Fire Nation had achieved. My ancestors had created the greatest empire the world had ever seen. The war was a necessary tribulation in order to make sure that the world knew that, that the world could share in that truth.”

“Do you still believe that?”

She paused. This version of history had been drilled into her since birth. Her father reinforced it every day of her training. Just as the Fire Nation had the right to rule the world, so too did Azula have the right to rule all those around her. But that had been a lie. There was nothing natural or right about the way she viewed or treated others. Her old drive to possess, control, and eliminate everything that opposed her had only brought misery to everyone around her, until the day finally came that all that misery she unleashed on the world came back to burn her from the inside out. Azula closed her eyes and replied, “Once. A long time ago. ...but not anymore.”

She focused, letting go of all the illusions that her nation, father, mentors, and even she used to justify atrocities. This time, her chakra opened painlessly, and her chi swam as a smooth current.

She opened her eyes, and was greeted by the avatar’s smile. “You have opened the Light chakra.”

Azula brought her hand to her forehead, gently running her fingers over the location of the chakra. “That one wasn’t so bad.”

He nodded. “That one flowed quiet smoothly.”

Azula smiled, feeling a joyful, innocent sense of pride in herself. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt that way.

* * *

Back at camp as the afternoon turned to evening, the good mood had started to lessen. Azula had seemed happy coming down the mountain, chatting with him in her own style of amiability as they walked and shared a snack at camp. Afterwards, however, she had grown quiet. She left him to go off to train, but something about her seemed colder. Not hostile or angry, but dejected somehow.

Aang had started going through his own exercises when she finally reappeared.  
“May I join you?” she asked.

A surprised smile lit up his face. “You want to train with me?”

She nodded. “If you’ll have me.”

“Sure!” he accepted, not even trying to hide how elated he felt. “I’d love to learn some of your moves!”

The smile she returned to him was a tempering one. “Only if you show me some of yours, avatar.”

“Well, not to brag,” Aang said, rolling his shoulders back and flexing his chest to amuse her, “but as you may have noticed, I’ve started developing some firebending forms of my own.”

“I have noticed, and with a few decades of practice, I’m sure they’ll be ready to be shown to another person.”

He clutched his chest as if an arrow had just struck him, letting out an ‘oooh’ sound. “Just for that, I’m going to make you my first pupil.”

Azula laughed, stepping onto the sand beside him with the confidence that Aang so admired. “Watch and learn first, avatar.”

Azula began by turning to face south, giving her a long stretch of the beach to use, and widened her stance, bringing her hands as fists to her sides. Her technique kicked off with a bang, taking quick steps forward as she swirled her arms around. Aang’s imaginations filled in the gaps, picturing the blasts of fire that would have been dissipated by her movements. Azula’s steps were quick as she progressed along the beach, backward and forward, side to side, jumping into the air and landing gracefully, never staying stationary. Her hands had changed from closed fists to open palms, her quick jabs mixed in with high kicks. Her strikes aimed low, high, and all around her. With each dynamic movement she made, Aang hoped to see fire spring forth. He wondered how his younger self would have reacted if he’d known that one day he would actually hope to see Azula’s firebending.

Azula ended strongly, stepping out onto her left foot to form a wide stance as her fists punched out, one high and one low, both targeted in the same direction. It reminded Aang somewhat of the last stance of the Dancing Dragon.

“Which form is this?” he asked.

“The Burning Blossom. It’s among the classic forms of firebending. Its techniques are meant to counter an opponent who has caught you off-guard, taking their momentum from them and using it against them.”

 _So it counters an ambush_ , Aang thought, wondering if he was reading too deeply into her choice. From what he had seen, the Burning Blossom was indeed designed to react to an ambush, and with Azula’s speed, precision, and skill, she could counter an entire squad if one foolishly tried to jump her.

“Now,” Azula said, turning around and stepping out of his way. “Let’s see how you do it.”

Aang began as she did, bringing his fists to his side and placing his feet apart. He proceeded with the form, repeating her motions as best as he could. As he finished, Aang held the position, moving only his head to see her reaction.

She gave him a friendly shrug. “You’re more blossom than burn.”

“I am an airbender,” he cheekily retorted. “I can’t help it.”

“Don’t worry, avatar,” she said, stepping towards him and patting him on the arm. “I’ll make a deadly fighter out of you yet.”

He smiled. The way she would rib him had become such a pleasing part of their routine. “My turn,” he proclaimed, whirling around so that he now faced northward. “I call this one the Flying Lemur.”

Azula sighed, but couldn't stop herself from chuckling too. “Of course you would base a form off of your pet.”

“Many bending forms are based on the movements of animals,” he countered. “I originally designed this to be an airbending technique, but with how often Momo gets into trouble, the further I developed this the more I realized this was better for firebending.”

Aang began his exhibition. The Flying Lemur form utilized quick steps and movements, invoking the way Momo could scurry quickly around on the ground. His strikes were lightning fast but tame by firebending standards. Whenever Momo found a source of food or a shiny object that he knew others might not want him to have, he would need to grab his prize and get out of dodge before anyone could stop him. The fires he made with this form were small and fast, easily underestimated but effective at disorienting and making fools of the enemy. As part of a team working together, the Flying Lemur was designed to support the moves of the user’s allies. Aang finished with a jump into the air, moving his arms outwards like Momo would to take flight.

He turned back to receive Azula’s feedback. “I think this form harkens a little too much back to airbending. A normal firebender might have trouble with its zigzagging and the lack of strong attacks that lets them indulge in their aggression.”

“Good thing I have a master firebender with me to help me fine tune it.”

Aang flew back to her side and went through the technique again, going step by step as she mirrored his demonstration. As they progressed, Azula practically giggled, saying, “If I used this on a battlefield, my opponent would die of laughter before I even touched them.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing. If they laugh at you, they underestimate you, and that’ll lead to them getting knocked flat on their backs. Then they’ll be looking up with the knowledge that they underestimated a true master.”

“Are you sure you want to encourage that in me?” she said, giving him a knowing smile. “Looking down on people and feeling superior to them?”

He returned the smile. “I trust you not to abuse this sacred firebending form.”

“Sacred? You said that you only recently invented this form.”

“I’m the avatar. Everything I do is sacred.”

As they continued, Azula began improvising movements, incorporating attacks from forms she was familiar with into the base, which Aang followed suit. Azula wasn’t even sure what she was doing. Ad libbing in firebending did not come easily to her. No teacher had even taught her to go outside the lines. Her only goal in her training was being perfect and being better than everyone else. But those desires were gone, and the avatar’s fun-loving nature had entered her life in earnest. He was the only person in the world who made her comfortable enough to act so foolishly. As the energy built up further and further inside her, Azula made stronger and bigger attacks. Without thinking, Azula shot up a vigorous punch skyward, and froze. The fun on her face disappeared. As she stared at her now trembling hand, she looked like she had seen a ghost.

“Azula?” Aang asked, worried. “What is it?”

“I…” she muttered. “I… I thought I felt a little heat just now.”

Aang, filled with empathy, did his best to be the one she could lean on. Azula wasn’t the only one wishing to see blue fire after all. As she slowly lowered her arm in defeat, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “I think we’ve worked up an appetite worthy of a big dinner.”

“Sure,” said Azula, her voice racked with defeat. “Let’s go eat.”

* * *

Aang outdid himself that night, cutting up mushrooms, peppers, onions, and zucchini, grilling them the way she liked it, seasoning them with just the right spices, and serving them skewered on thin wooden sticks. Sure, she still didn’t thrill at her currently vegetarian diet, but Azula had become rather appreciative of the avatar’s culinary skills.

She ate slowly, which was hard due to how good the food was. They sat closer together than before, just within reach at each other's side, but still Azula found her silver tongue turned to lead. _This has become as much a part of our routine as anything else_ , Azula thought, reflecting on the silence that would grow and regrow between them like a stubborn weed. How often had she done this to him? He was probably used to meals filled with raucous laughter and engaging conversations with friends. But with her, every time they ate she rarely had much to say, and when she did speak she usually did so with a complaint, or an accusation, or with an unknowing attempt to pry into his personal affairs. Opening each chakra was an intense experience, and berating or needling the avatar with comments and barbed questions afterwards had become an unhealthy form of aftercare.

Azula would break the silence tonight, and not with any malice or hostility as she did in the past. But she couldn’t think of anything pleasant to say. There was one pressing subject on her mind, but she didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe if she didn’t speak of it, her fears would never manifest into reality. She took in a quiet breath, and tried her best to casually say, “I guess there’s only one more chakra left.”

He nodded. “Yes. How are you feeling about it?”

She paused, unsure of what to say. _Nice job, genius_ , she thought, berating herself for so quickly fucking up what she wanted to be a natural conversation. Azula put aside the self-deprecation and answered in an almost stumbling manner, “Honestly? ...I feel good about my chakras and chi, and for once I don’t feel that I shouldn’t be this way. I’m not even wondering when this good feeling is going to end.” 

_But I’m terrified of what comes after we’re done_ , her brain left unsaid.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he told her. 

He showed no sign that he suspected the melancholy underneath her euphoria. _I’m still a good liar_ , she thought, even if it was only a lie of omission.

“Make sure to get a good night’s rest,” he said next. “I’m waking you up before first light.”

She frowned. “Surely my chakra doesn’t care what time of day I open it.”

He put a hand on his shoulder, to which she did not object. On the contrary, the fact he could be so comfortable and affable with her was welcoming. “You can survive one early morning, princess,” he teased. “I’d like to open your seventh chakra with the sunrise.”

Azula let out a defeated sigh, recognizing his point. If the release of the final chakra was going to unlock her firebending, having the sun at her disposal, using its energy to ignite the spark that she needed, could only help her. “Fine. But don’t expect any further early mornings from me.”

He chuckled, taking another bite of a pepper.

“I imagine you’ll be returning to your world adventures after we finish here.”

She saw his eyes widen slightly, and his body suddenly became a little tense. To hide his reaction, he made a little gesture as if he hadn’t given it much thought, or had been avoiding thinking about it altogether. But dishonesty did not come easily to him, and he eventually spoke the truth. “To be honest, the whole time we’ve been here I was worried something would interrupt us. Zuko’s the only one who could get a speedy message to us. Every day we’ve been here, I’ve worried that a messenger hawk would land in camp with a scroll saying that some maniac set an island on fire, or that an offended spirit was rampaging through Ba Sing Se, or any one of a thousand things that would need me to leave here.”

A playful smile returned to her face. “Did you still feel that way when I tormented you?”

“‘When you tormented me?’ Which time would that be? You’re going to have to be a lot more specific, Azula,” he countered, earning a well-needed laugh from her.

She took an entire mushroom into her mouth, finding it hard to chew as notes of laughter kept crawling up her throat. “Well,” she began to say without forethought, “I’m sure the world has plenty of duties for you to attend to. Stopping natural disasters, kissing infants, sewing peace everywhere you go-”

“Azula,” he said, his voice suddenly soft, the easygoing confidence in his eyes now gone. She practically snapped back to attention, desperate for him to say something to break the chain of thought that had started to form in her head, hiding behind her awkward words. He was looking down at the sand, as if he didn’t know how to say what was on his mind. That made her worried. Swallowing her food felt like trying to get a stone past her tightened throat. “There is one more thing.”

 _You’re going back to Doiyasu after we’re done_ , she thought he would say. In her mind she saw him saying that with the kind of ruthless cruelty that she once treated others with, that she was inclined to treat herself with. Just thinking of the absence of his kindness and gentleness, the qualities that she had come to expect and rely on, was enough to chill her to the bone.

Another image came to her mind, one where he simply took Momo, got on Appa, and left her on the island. _You deserve this exile_ , her twisted anxiety said in his voice.

Then a whole series of thoughts came, one right after another. Some so quick she didn’t know what to make of them, couldn’t get a grasp of what exact insecurity or anxiety they were stirring, but each sent a rotten, tightening feeling into her guts. She knew that all of these dreadful thoughts were baseless, that she should shut them out, but she couldn’t stop her fear from its creeping assault. 

_Please, avatar, just say something so I can stop guessing_.

“I think it’s time I tell you what led to this.”

That took her by surprise. “To what?”

“To this island. To you and me.”

Azula blinked. She didn’t know what to make of it. Could it be possible he had kept something from her? He never lied to her, Azula could always tell. “You said that you were going to help me heal. That it was your duty as the avatar,” she replied, trying to hide her worry.

“That’s true. But what I didn’t tell you is how I came to that realization.”

Azula shifted in her seat, nervously. “Alright.”

Aang straightened his posture, and took a slow, deep breath. “Azula, I want to tell you about a vision I had.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nine down. One to go.
> 
> Thanks for reading! As always, comments are more than welcome!
> 
> -A.F.S.M.A.S.


	10. Thought

Over one year ago...

“Thank you once again, avatar,” the mayor stated with a bow, joined by a sea of townsfolk united in their gratitude for the salvation that Aang brought to them.

The town of Muli, located on the western shore of the northernmost peninsula of the Earth Kingdom, had been under siege for weeks by an enraged spirit. The Beast of Muli, as it was known, destroyed ships and houses, vandalized shrines, and kidnapped many residents of the town. The Beast, who had taken the form of a ravenous two-headed eel hound, could not be tricked, could not be placated by their offerings or prayers, and could not be overcome by any local warrior or earthbender. A young woman, Aruna, took it upon herself to run the winding road to Agale Ghar, a nearby city where they had heard the avatar was overseeing a major political summit. It sent the gathered delegates into a furor when she burst into the hall, called out to the avatar for help, and then collapsed from exhaustion. When Aruna eventually came to, she explained the situation to Aang and begged for his help. Though hesitant to leave his role as a mediator in such a tense gathering of Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom delegates, Aang could not ignore the call for aid.

Aang, Aruna, and Momo arrived on Appa at dusk in the midst of another attack by the spirit. Though a powerful and fearsome opponent, the spirit couldn’t stand up to a full realized avatar and fled. Aang swam out after it, following it deep beneath the waves to the underground cavern where it resided. Inside, he found rows of the captured townsfolk, trapped within translucent, milky-white crystals, paralyzed but alive. He also found the spirit, its muscles tensed and its teeth bared, ready for another attack.

But Aang had a surprise for it. Rather than continuing their fight, he laid his staff on the ground between them and knelt. “The people up there call you a beast, but I would like to know your real name, please.”

The spirit, cautiously glaring at him with glowing white eyes, replied, “Motee Kutta.”

As morning rose, Muli was awoken to the sight of a huge raft made of ice floating into port. Upon it were the missing townsfolk, who were ecstatically welcomed by their friends and families. After embracing her now freed little sister, Aruna asked, “Wait, what happened to the avatar?”

That is when Aang emerged from the water, side by side with Motee Kutta.

Upon further questioning the frightened mayor, Aang had discovered that the attacks had started shortly after the locals started mining the local coral reefs for precious materials. Long ago, the Pearly Reef was revered, named so for the pearls of the local crabsters, which were the greatest of the reef’s aquatic treasures. The area’s earliest inhabitants believed the reefs were a gift from the spirit world, a sign that homes built on the shores neighboring its waters would be blessed.

In the past decade, Muli had slowly started to lose its relevance as a trading port and was unable to sustain itself economically. To avoid starvation and collapse, the townsfolk had started farming the reefs that their ancestors once venerated. Despite how recently this operation had begun, the people had already done great damage to the environment, scattering local fauna and flora. So many crabsters had been taken for their pearls that they were on the brink of localized extinction.

Motee Kutta was the last guardian of the Pearly Reef, left there by his kin to watch over the land while they returned to the Spirit World. He was awoken by the earthbending of the miners, and upon discovering the destruction, he transformed into his monstrous state, intent on avenging his ruined home.

As the bridge between the physical and spiritual worlds, it was Aang’s responsibility to propose a solution, which he did. The Pearly Reef would be left in peace, never again to be exploited for profit. The delicate reefs and its inhabitants would need years to recover from the damage that had been done. In exchange for their word, Aang would reach out to his friends in the Northern Water Tribe, the Fire Nation, other ports along the western coast of the Earth Kingdom, and the developing United Republic to secure new trading partners and investors, ensuring Muli’s recovery and future. With few alternatives, Muli’s council of elders accepted the offer. As a sign of good faith, and encouraged by a reprimanding glance from Aang, the mayor personally presented the Pearly Reef’s guardian with a crate containing the pearls they had taken but not yet sold. With a friendly bow and parting word from Aang, Motee Kutta took the crate and returned to his den and duty.

Most of Muli’s residents had hoped the avatar would slay the beast that had been terrorizing them, but he came to them not as a conquering hero but as a teacher and keeper of the peace. In recognition and appreciation for what he had done, the mayor and town elders declared that a celebratory feast would be held in the town square in his honor. Aang found it an odd reception from the newly humbled town, but he accepted their hospitality.

The feast would go long into the night, and few of its attendants would get much sleep. Truth be told, Aang was grateful to receive such a lively and joyous reception, and in that gratitude he may have overdone it a little. He politely declined their offers of wine like a good monk, just as Gyatso and the others taught him, but the food, games, and dancing were entirely different matters. As a vegetarian, Aang had never felt more catered to, even if many of the presented dishes were new to him. Among the wide assortment was curried potatoes, mushroom bhaji, khichdi, and baingan bharta, a dish consisting of eggplant that had been minced, grilled, cooked with tomatoes, garlic, peppers, onions, and mustard oil, and served on roti flatbread. Sides included fried rice, pakoras, naan, dipping creams and sauces, paneer, and various roasted vegetables. For desert, the cooks had even prepared an egg custard in the shape of his head, its arrow formed by blueberry syrup. When he wasn’t working through a plate that always seemed full, he was granting someone’s request to join them for a game or dance. For every dance and game he shared with someone else, he had one with Aruna.

Having been seated at his right hand in honor of her run to get his help at Agale Ghar, Aruna proved to be as lively a conversationalist as she was a dancer. Whenever she wasn’t making him laugh by joking about the mayor or the town elders, she was pulling him towards a game or onto the dance floor. After weeks of fragile negotiations, spending time with someone like her was a blessing. Aruna was a tall young woman, only a year his junior, with a toned physique, brown skin, and black hair. The shalwar trousers and kameez tunic, typical of the region, that she wore when she burst onto the scene at Agale Ghar were replaced tonight by a silken sari, styled in the traditional Muli colors of ocean blue and leaf green, and decorated with pearly white embroidery. Dancing with her was like flying through a tempest at sea, an exhilarating whirlwind of color that always kept him on his toes.

But as the night went on, Aang started to notice a few things. At first it was catching her looking at him out of the corner of her eye, then quickly turning her head as if she was trying to avoid getting caught. Twice he caught her talking with her friends while they all had their eyes on him, laughter escaping their smiling lips. Sometimes he would be playing or dancing in a crowd and notice her on the sidelines with a defensive, almost jealous look on her face. Then, when it was just him and her together, something about the way she looked at him, the way her hands would linger for just a little too long at his arms and shoulders during and after their dances, and the way she always seemed to stay so close to him, altogether gave off a strange vibe.

 _It’s nothing_ , he told himself. _She’s just being nice_.

Eventually, the food and fun had sapped his energy, and he got up to find the room that had been prepared for him. Though he was grateful for the night of festivities, he would need to leave come morning. The world always needed the avatar, and no individual place could hold him for very long, no matter how much any place wanted him to stay.

“Would you care for some company, Avatar Aang?” Aruna’s voice surprised him from behind.

He turned around, and nearly stumbled off his feet in the process. “That’s alright, Aruna” he said, his face hot, his head spinning, and feeling like he would pass out at any second. Though he didn’t drink, he imagined the way he felt was what drunkenness was like. “I’m just going to bed.”

She paused for a moment, the flash of uncertainty on her face giving something away. Before Aang could ask what was wrong, she repeated, with an awkward courage in her voice, “Would you care for some company?”

Aang froze. _She… she was flirting with me_ , it dawned on him as he replayed their brief time together in his head. It wasn’t that Aang was blind to such things, to his thinking at least. He had been the target of many childhood crushes, and when he became a man he received quite a lot of flirtatious attention from women, men, and others. He wasn’t naive or oblivious, he just… failed to notice it sometimes, and normally assumed people were being kind or respectful. His friends had exchanged more than one good laugh in the past at his expense when an admirer tried to work their magic on him and Aang didn’t notice until someone pointed it out to him afterwards.

But there wasn’t anything funny about tonight. Adoration radiated from Aruna’s eyes whenever she looked at him, now more than ever. She had unknowingly given him a brief respite from the hell that was Agale Ghar. Saving her village felt like one of the adventures he had as a kid. It was the first time in a while that Aang felt like a hero, and he had Aruna to thank for that. For a moment, he considered accepting her offer. Their night together was so much fun, why not let it continue? Why shouldn’t he say yes? Who would blame him for wanting to spend a night with someone like her? Why shouldn’t he-

Then a memory still too raw flashed in his mind. When it ended, so too did his fleeting consideration.

“Good night, Aruna,” he said with a bow, trying his best to let her down easy. He walked into his room and calmly shut the door behind him, feeling less like the avatar and more like a tactless idiot.

When Aang spied Aruna in the crowd as he left, she was hanging onto her sister for physical support, sadness and embarrassment etched clearly on her face. By the look of her, she had taken a full bottle of wine to bed with her last night.

 _Way to go, genius_ , he cursed himself. 

“Thank you all for your hospitality,” he replied to the crowd, returning the bow. “Please, always remember that nature is as much a part of your home as any building you construct. If you wish for Muli to truly prosper again, you must always keep this in mind.”

“We will, avatar,” the mayor replied, bowing again.

Aang leapt aboard Appa, giving one last wave to the crowd. He looked over to Aruna again, and saw that her face was buried into her sister’s shoulder.

* * *

“I am such an idiot,” Aang chided as soon as they were in the skies and away from Muli. Appa and Momo let out a shared sound to dispute that, clearly unhappy to hear Aang bash himself. He lacked the energy to contradict their support.

In his mind, he started to give himself excuses. He was exhausted, he partied too hard, he wasn’t obligated to reciprocate someone’s feelings, and maybe there was a weird power dynamic. After all, he was the avatar, and he just saved her sister and friends, so maybe that influenced her feelings in a way, and acting on them might have been taking advantage… Aang shook his head. That last excuse felt flimsy immediately on arrival. Even when Aang was at his harshest in self-criticism, he knew he wasn’t that kind of guy.

 _I probably could’ve at least turned her down in a way that didn’t make her cry_ , another thought called him out.

He let out a beleaguered moan, pressing his thumb hard against his temple. After everything that happened at that damn summit, why the hell was he beating himself up further?

The negotiations in Agale Ghar had been some of the most nerve-wracking of his life. Its attendants were primarily made up of representatives from various nearby Earth Kingdom city-states and minor kingdoms, and former war ministers and colonial administrators from the Fire Nation. Small delegations were sent from the Northern Water Tribe and the United Republic to observe the proceedings rather than participate.

The negotiations had begun on a sour note for Aang personally. The grand vizier of Agale Ghar had personally invited General Fong, who had once sought to turn him and the avatar state into a weapon. Aang wanted to object immediately upon learning of this, but decided against it. It wouldn’t look good to the other attendants if the avatar was arguing with the city’s ruler, and, considering the allegations against Fire Nation officers who were also going to be present, singling out an Earth Kingdom general over a personal matter would send a bad message.

The Earth Kingdom territories sought reparations for damages done during the war, acknowledgment of crimes committed against its citizens, and to begin criminal proceedings against the accused, both living and dead. The Fire Nation, as expected, proved obstinate. Few of the diplomats, even the best of them, wanted to admit culpability to the charges. Many of them still clung to a lingering pride in the empire that was fading away, and all were trepidatious over the idea of being formally judged by those not of the Fire Nation. Being judged by their fire lord or by a group of their peers was one thing, being judged by an international tribunal was another. Among their many points of contention, the Fire Nation delegation argued over what actions deserved reparation versus what they saw as natural collateral of war, quarreled over the form and extent of any potential reparations to avoid falling into financial debt to those they once ruled over, and questioned many of the accusations laid against the living and some of the dead. One former war minister even went so far as to spin the narrative and lay the real blame at the feet of the region’s rebels, effectively denying that the Fire Nation committed the listed crimes.

“Are you choosing to forget, general, that insurgents from the Shikoh principality destabilized daily life for both sides, forcing local garrisons to take drastic measures to defend themselves and maintain law and order?”

“You have some nerve to make a claim like that, firebender!” shouted General Fong.

“The rebels stole supplies from both sides!” a Fire admiral added to the chaos. “They even attacked unarmed Fire Nation civilians!”

“There are no civilians among invaders!” screamed one Earth noblewoman, sending the entire assembly into a frenzy, filling the hall with their shouting. It only ended when Aruna burst through the doors, having fought her way past several guards, and called out to Aang before collapsing.

Aang knew beforehand that any missteps on his part, any wrong choice of words, any sign of disrespect or favoritism towards either side, could lead to an international incident. Not since the attacks of the Three Flames had the world seemed so in danger. To make it worse, none of his inner circle of friends could come. His only ally present was Lady Ursa, sent to represent the fire lord. Zuko had wanted to attend in person, but was advised against it. It simply presented too much of a threat to his safety to have him leave the Fire Nation. The rest of his friends had too many other matters to handle. Though Ursa was invaluable, keeping a cool head among peers with fiery tempers, it wasn’t the same as having Team Avatar by his side.

After traversing such a hazardous atmosphere like that, he didn’t blame himself for indulging in Muli’s festive hospitality. No one would blame him for wanting to spend a night with someone like Aruna.

So why was he blaming himself?

Aang sighed. He was too insightful, even for his own good. Aruna wasn’t the problem. She was brave, loyal, strong, beautiful, and funny. Any guy would be lucky to get to know her better. But as he reflected on their brief time together, thinking of how he felt as they talked, as they danced, as he looked into her beautiful eyes, Aang knew it wasn’t really Aruna that was on his mind.

He was thinking of Katara.

* * *

How long had it been since their separation? It took a moment of reflection to realize that it was almost a year now since they broke up. Time didn’t seem to progress as smoothly as it did when he was a kid. Sometimes a month could feel like a year, and sometimes a year could feel like a month.

He never thought it would happen to them, and yet it did. There was no singular, catastrophic event that ended their relationship. It died by a thousand cuts. Over time, their responsibilities simply demanded too much of them, and they drifted apart until, finally, they just couldn’t make it work anymore. They had parted with assurances that they would still love each other, that they would always remain friends. It… it was enough. It should have been enough. For a while it seemed to be.

Then, just as it seemed as if the injury had closed, Toph opened it back up. It was only a few weeks before he would leave for the summit at Agale Ghar when he decided to visit Katara and Toph at Omashu. Katara was as great a diplomat as he was, and her counsel would undoubtedly be helpful. Plus, getting to spend a few days with friends would prepare him for the emotional tribulation ahead. In retrospect, he should’ve known something was wrong when the normally boisterous and blunt Toph was uncharacteristically quiet, almost aloof, during the majority of his visit.

The look Aang saw on her face when she asked to speak with him in private should have been another warning, but nothing could have prepared him for what she had to tell him.

“I kissed Katara.”

The world beneath him stopped turning. “What?”

Toph just stood there, bracing herself for how he would react next. Aang felt like he had been struck by a boulder. He had no idea what to say, he was still processing the impact. A hundred thoughts started to stir in his head, fighting to be voiced. The only thing he could ask was, “When?”

“A few weeks ago.”

His breath, along with his words, kept getting caught in his throat. “How…?”

“Aang,” she said, her voice starting to waver, tears forming in her eyes. “At first I was just trying to be a good friend. I was trying to be supportive. She needed someone, and I knew I could be there for her. I wanted to be there for her. But then… then we kept spending more and more time together, and... I didn’t plan on feeling this way. I didn’t plan on falling in love with her.”

 _Love_ , repeated in his mind as his stomach and guts twisted, feeling like they were caught in a vice. “Did…” Aang froze at the question that his mind had gone to. He shouldn’t ask it, he told himself. He didn’t want to ask it, and yet the question still forced its way past his lips. “Did she kiss you back?”

Toph was quiet for a second too long, and then replied, “She did.”

His reaction still shamed him. He didn’t yell, he didn’t cry, he didn’t say anything he would later regret. Instead, he just left. He didn’t even grab Appa or Momo, he just took to the sky and flew towards a remote spot on a nearby mountain. Aang needed a moment to breathe, to process. He wasn’t sure how long he was there when a search party of Omashu soldiers eventually found him. They couldn’t persuade him to return to the city, so they left. Within the hour, Appa landed beside him, Katara at his reins.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice neutral.

“Hey.” She leapt down and sat on the ground next to him. There was a brief moment of silence between the two as they looked out to the west’s setting sun. Then, Katara spoke, “We’ve never really talked about it, have we?”

“No.”

Her voice had the same supportive tone that she always had. “Talking about world events or political messes, laughing at inside jokes, reminiscing on old stories, that’s always come easy for us. But talking about ourselves was a different matter. It’s almost funny to think that we were better at communicating our feelings when we were kids.”

Aang shrugged. “There’s an old Air Nomad saying. The tragedy of the young is that they don’t have their elders’ wisdom. The tragedy of the old is that they have forgotten the wisdom of their youth.” He took a breath, trying to steady himself. “I once thought my life would be simpler after we ended the war. Turns out it’s just been more and more complicated.”

“I tried to convince Toph to wait until after Agale Ghar to tell you,” Katara explained. “I didn’t want you walking into that den of wolfbats with personal matters on your mind.”

“You think I can’t put aside what I’m feeling in order to do my job?” he questioned. They had done exactly that when they broke up.

“I think you’re human, Aang,” she gently countered. “People can’t help feeling how they feel, and sometimes our feelings interfere with our lives in ways that we don’t intend or even notice before it happens. That’s something I’ve had to learn here in Omashu. Selfless duty to the people you love is noble, as is the determination to make the world a better place. But if left unchecked, if you emphasize responsibility and self-sacrifice too much, you’ll end up ignoring your own needs and hurting yourself.”

He let out a little ‘hmm’ sound, acknowledging her point in an almost begrudging manner. Then, a sudden recklessness took hold of him, and Aang expressed himself freely. “Do you remember, just before Sozin’s Comet, when Sokka and Zuko insisted that the only way to win was to kill Ozai?”

“I do.”

“After speaking with my past lives, I thought that I would have to do it. I thought I would have to abandon what my people taught me. But the Lion Turtle showed me another way. He showed me my past lives weren’t telling me I had to be a killer. I could be decisive, bring justice, actively shape destiny, and do what the world needs of me while still being an airbender. I upheld my duty as the avatar and stayed true to myself, to my people. ...how could I have forsaken that lesson? When did I stop trying to be both the avatar that the world needed and the man who I wanted to be?”

Katara put a hand on his shoulder. Despite how he was feeling, he relaxed into her touch. How he had missed it. “It happened to both of us, Aang. We both decided to-

“Katara,” he interrupted, not meaning for his tone to sound hard. “I was able to find that balance when it came to defeating an enemy, but I couldn’t find it to stay with the woman I love. What does that make me if not a fool? I’m a pretty pathetic avatar.”

She released his shoulder to place her hand against his right cheek, turning his face so that he would have to look at her. “Not in my eyes you’re not.”

The self-loathing he felt couldn’t withstand her insistence to the contrary. “Well, in my eyes you’re the best waterbender in the world. We’re not objective when it comes to each other.”

Katara smiled at that, a breath of laughter escaping her throat, and released his face with a look that told him loud and clear, _You can’t be mean to yourself. I won’t let you_. Katara’s love and support could and often did save him in any dark moment of his life.

He asked, his voice tempered now, “If you tried to convince her not to, why did Toph want to tell me now?”

“I told her that we should wait before saying anything, but she didn’t want to. She said that she didn’t want to conceal us from you, and that friends are honest with each other.”

Aang said nothing at first, reflecting on the irony of Toph hitting him with that world-shattering piece of truth because she wanted to respect his feelings and their friendship. He then tried to ask, “So how did you two… how long have you two been…”

He couldn’t finish either question, so Katara skipped to the answer. “As it turned out, Toph and I are both pretty big idiots. It happened so slowly that by the time it happened it took us both by surprise. It took months before either of us recognized what we were feeling, and even longer before we were brave enough to make a move.”

“So, you didn’t know she was falling for you, while at the same time she didn’t know you were falling for her?”

Katara nodded. “As I said. Idiots.”

The pair laughed together before silence took hold of their conversation again. Now, it was his turn to provide an explanation. Katara always had a special talent of forcing people to be honest with their feelings. “I’m not angry, Katara,” he said, keeping his eyes on the setting sun. “With either of you. I guess I just…” Aang took a deep breath, and did his best to finish. “I just figured that even though we were separated, we might get back together someday.”

“I thought so too,” she replied, her voice low.

“But now?”

Katara was silent only for a moment. When she answered, her tone was gentle but her words were steadfast. “Things have changed.”

Aang took another slow breath, calming himself. As he sat with Katara on that mountain, the two bathed in the light of the setting sun, he thought of Toph on her own back in Omashu, and one question became far more important than any other. “Does she make you happy?”

Katara gave him a little smile and nodded her head. “Whenever she’s not driving me crazy, yes. She does.”

When they returned to the house, Toph was waiting for them, rising from her chair as they entered the room. Her earthbending meant she couldn’t be surprised, but that didn’t stop her anxiety from making her dread every approaching step she felt.

Aang assuaged that by pulling her into a hug. “Do you still tease her like when we were kids?”

“Every day.”

“Good. If I still have to deal with Twinkle-Toes, you’d better still be calling her Sugar Queen.”

Toph burst out into laughter, joined by Katara behind them, and hugged him tighter, burying her face into his chest as tears of a far happier nature dropped down her cheeks.

When Aang took his leave of them and of Omashu, he gave them a fond farewell befitting friends. He was happy for them, he really was. He loved them, and they loved each other. The issue was settled, and Aang knew he had no reason to feel dejected or wistful on the matter. He was happy for Katara and Toph.

So why couldn’t he stop himself from thinking about it? Why did part of him still feel the way that it did?

A deep, sudden yawn interrupted his chain of thought. What had started as a simple morning sluggishness compounded by a lack of sleep had slowly devolved into exhaustion. Keeping his eyes half open and his chin off of his chest felt like more and more of a labor as they kept flying. Once, as a boy who had only recently bonded with Appa, he asked Sister Iio if airbenders ever fell off while sleeping on a bison in flight. The elder nun had chuckled, assuring him that an airbender was at their safest with their bison, and that there was nothing quite like sleeping amongst the clouds.

“Mind taking over for a while, bud?” he asked.

Appa replied with an affirmative grunt. Aang gave him a friendly pat, and leaned back to try to get some shut eye.

* * *

He awoke after what felt like a few hours to the sound of Momo chittering loudly in his ear and the sensation of him forcefully tugging at his robe.

“Momo?” Aang yawned. “What is it buddy?” Through his hazy vision, he could see dark clouds overhead. “Is it about to rain?”

As he rubbed his tired eyes, another yawn escaping his throat, Aang’s vision slowly cleared. Those weren’t clouds above him. They were the leaves of a high forest canopy so thick it once blocked out sunlight before something punched a giant hole through it. A hole the size of a flying bison.

“Appa?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

The only response was the slow sound of Appa’s breath.

Aang jumped off with a gust of air to land in front of Appa’s face. Though he was without a cut or bruise, Appa was panting heavily, his tongue flopped out of his mouth, and his legs were sprawled out to the sides. He couldn’t even muster the energy to open his eyes. Aang had never seen his oldest friend so exhausted. _How long were we in the air?_ he asked himself. _How long was I out?_

Aside from trees, dirt, and the leaves and branches knocked to the ground when Appa landed, the three were alone. If someone had wanted to attack them, they had already missed their golden window of opportunity.

 _There’s no way we crashed. There’s no way I could have slept through something like that_ , Aang thought, though the scenery begged to differ. _How… how did this happen? What’s going on?_

“Momo, keep an eye on Appa. I’m going to have a look around.”

Momo responded with a short screech, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of guarding an incapacitated bison from whatever dangers the forest might throw at them.

“Look, I know there aren’t many things that can threaten an adult flying bison, but Appa’s too tired to move and I have to find out where we are. If something happens, just blow on the whistle I gave you.”

Without knowing when Momo was actually born, Aang treated the day they met as their birthday. For his last birthday, Aang had given Momo a whistle so loud that it could alert every non-deaf creature within a three mile radius. Momo scurried to the saddle and pulled out his present, beginning his watch with noticeable anxiety.

“That’s my boy,” he assured Momo. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

* * *

Aang’s path was surrounded by buna trees that towered at over a hundred feet in height, coloring his world in smooth grays and whites. A canopy of new green leaves was growing overhead, jostled by the chill breeze that ran through the forest. But the early spring cold didn’t matter to an airbending master. A few insects scurried away from him, disturbed from their place on the forest floor with each of his steps. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of birds and monkeys. Far off to his left, an owl wolf appeared. It had a gray body and a face divided between white and black fur, and was digging at the base of a tree, presumably in search of a meal. It raised its head at the sound of his steeps, watching him as he passed. Aang gave the wolf a friendly nod and wave of the hand, not too fast to make sure he didn’t spook the animal. The owl wolf stared at him for a moment, then loped off back in the direction he came from.

As Aang watched the owl wolf disappear into the groves of buna trees, it dawned on him. He knew this place. Monk Gyatso had taken him here once, over a century ago. This was Kokkanzo Forest, located on the southernmost island of the western Air archipelago. The region, though traditionally part of the western lands of the Air Nomads, had cultural significance to both the Air Nomads and the Fire Nation, whose northern islands were only a few leagues to the south. Many folktales shared between the two cultures took place within or near Kokkanzo Forest. It was nice to see it hadn’t changed much since the last time he had visited. Kuzon had been with them then, after much convincing of both Gyatso and Kuzon’s parents. Even the great outdoors wasn’t as wild as the two of them were when they were together.

The nostalgia of that joyful memory was short lived. _How?_ Aang asked himself. They had been traveling east into the Earth Kingdom, and Kokkanzo Forest was south and west of Muli and separated by a long stretch of miles. There was no way Appa could have gotten turned around. _Was there a storm?_ No, that wasn’t possible. He woke up dry as a bone, and the exhausted Appa wasn’t injured. Maybe Appa saw one brewing in the direction they were going and changed course of his own accord. But that didn’t add up either. There were plenty of landing spots much closer than Kokkanzo that would have given them shelter, and that didn’t explain the violent landing Appa made, or how he could have slept through all of it. Not even the swamp had been so vexing or rough, and that place threw a damn tornado at them.

“Hey, Kokkanzo,” he shouted to the woods in an attempt to be civil despite his confusion and annoyance, “I have a lot on my plate right now, so if we could wrap whatever this is up, I would appreciate it.”

No voice in the forest gave him an answer.

“If there’s a spirit here and you’d like to talk to me, my ears are wide open. You didn’t have to knock me off course and overwork my best friend to have a conversation with me. I’m willing to listen to whatever you have to say.”

Again, no response.

“Nuts to this,” Aang told off Kokkanzo Forest under his breath, turning back the way he came to take Appa and Momo away.

Then, with a crack louder than any whip, a thick branch broke off from a tree above him and landed with a crash at his feet. Aang jumped back, startled. Were Sokka here, he would have written it off with something reasonable, like a loose branch that had been weakened by winter and had just conveniently almost fallen on top of him as he tried to leave. But Aang knew better. Nature had a will of its own, and was more than willing to throw a hog monkey wrench into any person’s plans.

“Okay,” Aang sighed. “Let’s see where this leads.”

As he ventured further and further into the forest, the buna trees were joined by sugi redwoods, with ferns and bushes starting to pop up from the ground. Green ran underfoot and overhead while red, white, brown, and gray intermingled around him. Aang eventually came to a small break in the woods where rocky ground was cut in two by a wide creek. Again, there were no signs of any people or spirits. To alleviate his agitation, Aang knelt down to the creek and started to bend small streams onto his face and into his mouth.

Then, the sound of a child’s laughter rang out around him. Aang shot back up, letting the water fall from his hands. “Hello?” he asked the empty air and received no response. He looked all around and back to where he came from. Nothing was there.

He turned back to the creek, and from behind a large nearby stone across the water emerged a little girl. She must have been seven, maybe eight. She had a round face with chubby cheeks held up by a wide smile, big golden eyes, and long black hair styled in a typical Fire Nation style. Her red and orange clothes, however, were not. The girl gave no sign that she saw him there, her attention fixed solely on the creek, from which she fished out a pretty rock. Aang began stepping towards her, wanting to ask her name, if she was lost, if he could help her get back to her parents. Before he could say anything, the girl stashed the rock into one of her pockets and swirled her arms in front of her, forming an air scooter. Aang stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide and jaw dropped. The girl leapt atop her ball and sped off away from him.

“Wait!” Aang’s hands almost fumbled as he formed his own air scooter to give chase. She was faster than him, and no matter how hard he willed himself forward, he could not shorten the gap between them. Even as his surroundings turned into blurred, racing images, he couldn’t catch up with her. In his desperation, Aang reached out for the power of the Avatar State to enhance his speed, but he couldn’t feel it.

“Stop! Don’t run away!”

Her innocent laughter continued to echo around him. Then, another voice joined her. Then another and another until he was surrounded by many voices, of boys and girls of different ages, all laughing. Aang was so focused on his target that he lost sight of everything else, including a stone protruding from the ground directly in front of him. He tried to veer up but was too late. The stone cut his scooter in half, taking Aang’s balance and sending him flying forward, landing into a small clearing with a thud.

The girl had somehow circled around and gotten behind him, leaping into view in front of him, just a few yards away. Aang lifted himself off of the ground, taking his eyes off the girl only for a second. When he looked back, he saw her running up to a woman with her back to him. She wore red and orange robes, and had long black hair that flowed in the wind. The little girl proudly showed her the rock she took from the river. The woman gave a loving nod and took the little girl by the hand, leading her towards a curtain of vines covering a nearby cave.

“Wait!” Aang said, getting to his feet. “Please! Just tell me your name!”

The woman and girl parted the vines and stepped through them. Aang rushed forward, knocking the plants out of the way. One caught him by the ankle and tripped him, sending him back to the ground. As the vines swayed back into place behind him, the light of day was snuffed out by pitch black.

Unable to see even an inch in front of his own face, Aang rose back to his feet and ignited a flame in his hand. “Hello!” he called out to the girl and the woman who must have been her mother.

The darkness gave him no answer.

Aang scrambled to remove his boots, stomping his feet to the ground to see if he could feel anything with his earthbending.

Nothing. He couldn’t feel a single thing other than himself moving on the ground.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, two people appeared before him, separated from each other and from him by a wide berth. On his right was an old woman, with ashen hair that reached down past her waist, sitting upon a wooden bench and dressed in white robes that gave her an almost ghostly visage. On his left was an old man, but he was so obscured by gray mists that Aang couldn’t make out any other details. Aang stood there motionless, just watching the two of them.

Then, another person approached the woman. By her attire, Aang could see she was a healer. “Are you ready, miss?” she asked, offering the elderly woman her hand. He heard a breathy, despondent noise escape the old woman as she accepted the offered hand, using it for support as she struggled to stand up. Though he could not see her face or make out her voice, Aang could feel the exhaustion and inconsolable sorrow that clung to her. The healer led the woman away, and they disappeared.

To his left sat the old man on a stone. His colorless image was somewhat livelier than his counterpart, but the sight of him was no less confusing or dispiriting. There were small movements of his hands and head, as if he was talking to someone. The mists obstructing his view began to clear, letting Aang see that the man was talking to a group of people sitting on the ground in front of him. The mists continued to clear, and color returned to that which had been grayed. The old man and those who had gathered to hear him speak were wearing orange and yellow robes.

His robes.

Aang froze, unable to even breathe. Those who had gathered to listen to the sage talk, men, women, and others of various ages and from all walks of life, bowed and left him. The old man lingered, alone. For too long, Aang just stared at the elder, who seemed to bear his solitude with the quiet dignity and detached strength of a monk. Slowly, the man stood up and turned to face him, and Aang saw him as he was: an old man with blue arrow tattoos. He was ancient. He looked even older than Guru Pathik. A long white beard clung to his chin, blowing gently in the breeze.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” Aang asked the vision before him.

The old man just stared at him.

“Please, I don’t understand. Who are you? Can you help me?”

The old man said nothing at first, studying him, but finally out of the corner of his mouth he gave Aang the tiniest of smiles. “No,” he said. “It is not I that can help you.”

Then a great gust of wind kicked up, extinguishing the uneasy flame that had been burning in Aang’s hand and blowing away the old man as if he were nothing but dust. Aang was engulfed by the lingering darkness again until, slowly, a series of sapphire lights started to glow from behind him. He turned around. The girl and her mother were gone, as were the monk and old woman. The lights steadied into blue flames flickering from a ring of candles surrounding another woman, dressed in dark robes with long black hair that fell messily over her back. She sat hunched over on the ground, just a few feet away. She made no sign that she had detected his presence. There were a thousand questions racing through Aang’s mind, fighting each other to take root on his tongue. But as he looked at her, suddenly only one question seemed to matter. 

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” he asked, his voice low and desperate.

The woman stirred slightly, then slowly looked over her shoulder towards him. She had pale skin, golden eyes, and a pained, tired look on her face. In the dim light of the candles, Aang could see who she was.

Then, his entire world went back to black.

The next thing Aang knew, he was on the ground, and something fuzzy was rubbing up against his face. As he slowly opened his eyes, blinking from the bright light of the sun above, Aang was met by the black and white face of the owl wolf he saw earlier.

“Hello again,” he said, feeling out of breath.

As he looked around, Aang discovered they were accompanied by the rest of the pack, each eying him curiously. The clearing he was in was new, with trees far off from the grass beneath him and the wolves’ den. Suddenly, Momo was on top of him, frantically licking his face. They were joined immediately by Appa, who placed his chin against Aang’s chest. Aang lifted himself to his elbows, looking for some sign of the women, the man, or the girl, but it was only him and the animals.

“Sorry, guys,” Aang said, petting both of his friends. “Didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

* * *

Aang landed Appa on the outskirts of the nearest village in the Fire Nation and donned a disguise, hiding his arrow behind a hat and headband. He had to find somewhere he could get a cup of tea, anything to relax after what the forest had unleashed on him. He found a bench in the back corner of an inn and took it. As he slowly nursed his hot drink, the vision in Kokkanzo played over and over in his mind, not giving him a break. Aang forced himself to take a deep breath, followed by a long, slow drink. He had to clear his mind and focus.

The only point of reference he had to compare his experience today was the swamp, where he was given a vision of Toph playing with a flying boar. Like today, that vision had run away, forcing him to give chase. Katara saw her mother that day, and Sokka saw Yue in her spirit form. If Appa and Momo had seen anything other than the swampbenders who hunted them, Aang didn’t know.

“Time is an illusion,” Aang muttered under his breath, repeating the words that Huu had told him so long ago. What was he to do with that wisdom now? Was what he saw the results of three separate paths he might take, or were they all somehow connected? Were images of the past, present, and future shown side by side? The swamp at least showed him a person he would meet within a few days’ time. Kokkanzo showed him an old man who could be a stranger who lived centuries ago or his possible future self, an airbending girl he didn’t recognize, two women whose faces he never saw, and Azula, who he had not seen in almost seven years. What the hell was he to make of all this? What was he to do?

 _Everything is connected,_ his memory repeated, giving him a moment of clarity. “I’ve got to talk to Roku.”

Aang was so quick to leave the inn that he left his entire coin pouch for the waiter. On a hill far from the town, Aang sat and meditated, calling out to Roku’s spirit.

“Hello, Aang,” the previous avatar greeted as his astral form took shape. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Yes, Roku. I’m sorry we haven’t talked since… when was the last time we talked?”

“Two years ago.”

“Two years!?” Aang repeated in disbelief. Had it really been so long? He let out a frustrated sigh, bringing his palm to his forehead. “I’m sorry, Roku. I didn’t mean-”

His mentor cut him off with a pacifying wave of his hand. “It’s all right, Aang. I know you have many responsibilities weighing on your shoulders.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“How can I help you?”

Aang took a deep breath and proceeded to tell him everything, starting at the preparations for Agale Ghar and ending at the second he sat to meditate. To his credit, Roku was very supportive, letting Aang vent everything that had happened, nodding in sympathy at certain points in the story. Aang was out of breath by the time he finished. 

“I see. That… that is quite a vision,” Roku said when he gave him a turn to speak.

“Yeah!” Aang exclaimed. “And I have no idea what to do with any of it!”

Roku nodded. “I can certainly understand why you feel that way. But, if I were to take a guess, I would wager that it is only the latest in a long string of troubles that you have yet to take care of.”

Aang suddenly felt defensive. “Roku, I have never shirked my responsibilities as the avatar. I’ve been all over the world a dozen times since I ended the war. I-”

Roku raised a hand to stop him. “I have no doubt that you see to the needs of the world. I am proud of you for all that you have accomplished. But are you seeing to your own needs as well?”

Aang said nothing, which was all the answer Roku needed.

“Tell me what’s been bothering you.”

At a much slower pace, Aang told Roku of his recent personal history, of gathering more Air Acolytes, of the restoration he had started of the temples, and finally of his separation from Katara. “I’ve accepted that we’re no longer together. I’m happy for her and Toph. ...so why does part still feel miserable about it?”

The elder avatar gave voice to the words that Aang could not. “Because Katara was the one you thought you would spend the rest of your life with. Now that this path is lost and walked by another, you fear for the future. Not only your own, but that of the Air Nomads.”

Aang hung his head. “The acolytes have been everything I wanted. After a hundred years, the Southern Air Temple has people living it in again! I know my people’s teachings and history are in good hands, but…”

Roku finished the sentence for him. “But the acolytes and their children cannot become airbenders.”

“There’s so much more to my people than bending, but…”

Roku helped him again. “But it is a part of them that mustn’t be lost to the world.”

Aang took a moment to calm himself, not wanting to openly lament in front of Roku. “Katara and I used to talk about getting married and having kids. We planned to wait for the right time, when the world would stop keeping us apart. Then things started to change, and that right time kept getting pushed back again and again by all of our responsibilities until that right time just… disappeared.”

Roku gave him a moment, then calmly asked, “Aang, have you ever received a vision like this in the past?”

“Yes, I have.” Aang leapt at the chance to talk of something else and told Roku of his unexpected misadventure in the swamp, and of meeting Toph shortly after. When he finished, Roku asked, “Tell me of your first meeting with Toph. How did she join your group?”

Aang elaborated, “We met at an earthbending arena. Then I tracked down where she lived, we got kidnapped together, she beat up all our kidnappers, and then… her parents were unwilling to see just how strong and capable Toph really was. They tried to keep her from leaving. For a moment, I thought I would never get to see her again.”

“And how did you feel?”

“I was devastated. I knew that I would never find anyone else like her in the whole world. If she hadn’t run away from home… I wouldn’t want to imagine what my life would be like without Toph in it.”

Roku gave an affirming smile. “So the swamp gave you a prelude of one of your best friendships, and gave you a gentle nudge in the right direction to make that friendship a reality.”

“It did,” Aang replied, somewhat nervous at the new tone in Roku’s voice. He was leading to something, but Aang couldn’t tell what it was.

“Your vision led you to find the one who would be your earthbending master and one of your closest friends, but it never forced you to do anything that you didn’t want to do.”

“That’s true.”

“You always had a choice.”

Aang raised an eyebrow. “What are you getting at, Roku?”

“I think the vision you experienced in Kokkanzo Forest was very much like what you saw in the swamp. The universe is strange and wonderful. When its energies touch our lives, we are often left confused and changed. But destiny is something that we shape through our choices. Just as the swamp guided you to Toph Beifong, the forest is guiding you to Princess Azula. You have a decision to make, Aang. One that will not only shape your own destiny, but hers as well.”

“So, you think that if I reach out to Azula and help her, that will somehow lead to me meeting whoever that woman in the orange and red robes is?”

“It’s possible,” Roku responded, nodding. “Or, perhaps, Azula is meant to be that woman.”

Aang’s eyes widened, his uneasy smile fading. There was no way Roku was suggesting what Aang thought he was suggesting. “Roku, I don’t want to badmouth your great-granddaughter, but… this is Azula we’re talking about.”

Roku raised his shoulders and brow in a questioning manner. “And?”

Aang blinked, unbelieving that Roku would actually make him say it. “She almost killed me!”

His mentor nodded. “Yes, that is true. Normally, I wouldn’t suggest pursuing a relationship with such a person. I also wouldn’t normally suggest becoming such a person’s friend and firebending student.”

Aang raised a finger. “That… that is not-that is not... even remotely comparable. Zuko… Zuko apologized for all the times he ever attacked me and my friends. And he helped save the world!”

“So, if Azula did apologize and tried to make amends to you, would that be sufficient?”

“I…” Aang froze, unsure of what to say. “...maybe. I guess.”

“It is the avatar’s purpose to bring balance to the world. You’ve often proven that the best way to bring about such harmony is to help the people we meet on our journeys. If Azula has the potential to heal and redeem herself, and has a part to play in balancing the world itself, who better than you to guide her on that path?”

Aang looked away from his predecessor, pensive and unsure of himself. “So, what should I do?”

Roku smiled and placed his hand on Aang’s shoulder. Though a spirit without physical touch, the gesture still felt comforting. “Do what you have always done, Aang. Keep an open mind, and trust your heart. You will find a way. You always have.”

Roku faded from sight, leaving Aang with more to think on than one brain could handle.

* * *

But before Aang could do anything further with the contents of his vision, there were still pressing matters to attend to. He flew back to Agale Ghar as quickly as he could without pushing Appa too far. The city wasn’t on fire when he landed, so he took that as a good sign.

The hall, still filled with delegates, hushed as he entered the room. “Apologies, everyone,” he announced. “Something came up.”

There was a mixture of uneasy looks and shared, doubtful glares among the crowd. General Fong was brazen enough to ask, “And what, pray tell, was so important, avatar?”

Aang looked him right in the eye and calmly replied, “I got kidnapped for a vision quest through the machinations of the universe.”

A pin dropping to the floor in that moment would have been louder than the arguments that room had gotten accustomed to. The delegates shared their bewilderment as they looked to one another, wondering if any of their colleagues or rivals across the floor had heard of something like this. One minister hesitantly asked, “Are you… alright, avatar?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he casually reassured. “Not the first time this has happened.”

Aang retook his seat between both sides of the hall. Nearby sat Lady Ursa, who shot a concerned glance his way. He gave her a quick smile and nod, and braced himself for the next challenge that Agale Ghar had for him.

* * *

Months later, Aang sat in the Fire Nation palace, sharing tea with Zuko. Officially, he was there to help with matters of state, as usual, but the friends always found a chance to spend time alone together. With all of the responsibilities they faced, it was one of the few things that kept them sane. But this time, Aang had an ulterior agenda that prodded at him from the back of his mind throughout their conversation. Finally, he asked Zuko how Azula was doing. The young fire lord was naturally surprised by the question, as the two hadn’t talked about her in years, but he had a surprise of his own for Aang in turn.

“So she’s improving?” Aang asked, going through the scroll again.

“Yes,” Zuko answered. “It’s been slow, but the letters say that she’s actually been talking to her doctors, and has opened up bit by bit over time, but…”

“But what?”

Zuko passed another scroll to him, explaining, “The way Dr. Chiyo described it, it’s as if Azula has hit a plateau. There hasn’t been any major progress for some time. She’s still undereating, she stays indoors all day, and she’s still unable to firebend. Before, I’d say that was a good thing. But now...”

Aang looked over the scrolls, carefully reading the details as the imagery and sounds of his vision played in his mind. Finally, the only sensible response dawned on him. “What if… what if I helped her?”

Zuko was taken aback. “You?”

Aang gave him an uneasy shrug. “You know how charming I can be. I can get along with almost everyone.”

“Sure, but how would you go about it?” he asked. “You and Azula haven’t really talked outside of a fight. How would you be able to help her where her healers can’t anymore?”

He paused. “I don’t know. ...I’ll think of something.”

* * *

The Present...

“And so, that is everything that happened.”

Azula remained seated and silent throughout his long explanation. Initially, she was speechless. When the silence lasted a little too long for comfort, Aang spoke again. “I’m sorry I couldn’t have come to you sooner. I had a lot of people to speak to on the matter, I had to train with Guru Pathik, and there were some incidents that need my attention as the avatar-”

“What does this mean?” she interrupted him, not in anger or impatience.

 _That maybe you’re the woman in the orange and red robes_ , Aang thought but couldn’t say. All he knew for certain was that Azula was the woman surrounded by candles. Sure, he could make intelligent guesses about the others in his vision, but didn’t feel ready to draw certain conclusions. Connecting the dots never felt so complicated. “Maybe it’s my destiny that I help you restore your firebending.”

Azula looked away from him, her brow furrowed in thought. “I don’t see it that way.”

“Oh,” said Aang, his voice quiet and discouraged.

She elaborated, “If it was destiny, that would mean that every terrible thing that has been done to me, and every terrible thing that I’ve done to others, was also meant to happen. That it didn’t matter what my choices were.”

“So, for good and for bad, you want everything to be within your control?”

“My father dictated so much of my life, and his teachings led to the obsession I had over controlling others. In the end, those choices brought me nothing but misery. But if I can control myself, if I can decide how I live my life, if I can bring myself some semblance of peace and balance, then that will be enough. I can live with the consequences of my poor decisions if I can make myself the master of my own fate.”

Aang smiled, his hope restored. “A fortune teller once told me that destiny isn’t set in stone. It can be shaped and reshaped, just as clouds can be.”

She raised her brow in a mocking gesture, smirking at him. “Fortune teller? I didn’t think you were the kind to fall for such superstition, avatar.”

He shrugged in his easygoing, playfully teasing manner. “A wise person takes knowledge from many sources.”

“What about you?” she asked, a note of seriousness returning to her voice. “Do you see all of this as choice or destiny?”

That gave Aang pause. The question had come to him more than once in his journeys. Was it fated for him to run away from home only to be frozen in an iceberg and miss a century of war? He thought Katara and he were going to be together forever, but that didn’t happen. What did fate and choice mean for a man whose choices determined the fate of the entire world? He answered, “It was my destiny as the avatar to master the four elements and bring balance to the world. How I did that was my choice. If it weren’t for that vision in the forest, maybe you and I wouldn’t have seen each other again. But it was my choice to bring you here and to help you, just as it was your choice to trust and come with me. You could say it was my destiny to teach you because that is what I shaped my destiny to be.”

Azula crossed her arms. “Sounds like you’re trying to have your cake and eat it too.”

“Helping you on this island has been a pretty tasty cake. Even if you do cruelly insult my tea.”

Azula laughed at that, and he could never stop himself from joining her. It was always such a sweet feeling, whenever he could make her happy. A small, melancholic thought suddenly scratched at the back of his mind, reminding him that their time on the island was almost up. There were only so many laughs left for them to share together.

“Did you tell anyone else of this vision?” she asked.  
“I told Roku, Guru Pathik, and your uncle.”

Azula seemed surprised at that, making Aang fear he had erred in telling one of her family members. “Well,” she muttered after thinking it over, “Uncle’s journey into the Spirit World was quite legendary, and he’s always had his quirky wisdom. I guess I can’t blame you for wanting his opinion on the matter. ...how did he react?”

“Iroh agreed with Roku, to a certain extent. The universe was giving me a sign. He said you weren’t meant to linger in misery and darkness, and that I should bring you whatever peace and healing that I could.”

She looked away from him, back to the dying campfire. “Maybe I’ll talk with him about it someday.”

Despite the uncertainty in her eyes and voice, her words gave Aang a little hope. If what he did with her on this island gave Azula the stability to reach out to her family, it would be one the greatest things he had ever done. “I’ll let you get some sleep,” he said, rising to his feet. “We still have an early morning ahead of us.”

“Before you go,” she stopped him, “is… is this last chakra more difficult to open than the others?”

“That’s a matter of perspective. It is the only chakra that I initially failed to open.”

She wore her shock plainly on her face. “You failed? You, the most spiritual person on the planet?”

His smile was tinged by a tongue in cheek self-deprecation. “Hey, I’m only human.”

“When did you manage to open it?”

His smile slowly disappeared, and in the low light of the fading campfire Aang’s expression became troubled. After so much time together, Azula could recognize it as the look he took on whenever he was about to say something that he knew would upset her.

“In Ba Sing Se, during our battle in the crystal catacombs.”

Azula couldn’t stop herself from physically recoiling backwards, catching herself on the palm of her left hand. “You opened it… right before I shot you?”

His only reply was a somber nod. That day was once one of her greatest. She had conquered the Impenetrable City and slew the most powerful bender alive. But time had shown the hollowness of that great victory, of the worthlessness of her pride, of how the fires she used in service to her father and nation had burned her in the end. Her sense of superiority was gone. The final chakra was in sight, and Azula didn’t know what would take its place.

To her surprise, an apology began bubbling up her throat. “I’m…” she started to say before her tongue turned to lead. _What am I doing?_ she asked herself. What good would mere words be now, so long after that battle took place? How often had Azula felt that way, that her formerly silver tongue could not weave the right words in the right way to mend the bridges she had burned. No words could speak louder than the atrocious actions of her past.

 _However_ , a lone thought of hope told her, _maybe he’d still like to hear me say it_. 

Azula shifted to her knees and bent over, hanging her head close to the ground with her hands touching the sand beneath her face, genuflecting in the traditional Fire Nation manner. “I’m sorry for what I did to you that day. For… for all the things I did to you during the war. I have no excuse, and I know that an apology doesn’t make up for any of it. I… I thought you should know...”

Aang saved Azula from her own stammering. She heard the sound of him moving towards her, then going to one knee in the sand. To her surprise, he collected her hands in his, lifting her up so that she would have to meet his gaze. His smile and the tender look in his gray eyes made her entire world feel soft. Nothing else existed but the two of them. To her embarrassment, she could feel her cheeks starting to blush.

“The scar might still be on my back, but whatever grudge I held over it is long gone. You’ve proven that with time and patience, and a willingness to work towards redemption, old wounds can heal. That scar doesn’t bother me anymore. You’re not that person anymore. I thank you for your apology, and I forgive you, Azula.”

Without thinking, Aang brought her hands further up and planted a gentle kiss on the fingers of her right hand. Azula just stared at him, unable to speak, move, breathe, or even blink. _Well... I guess that apology could’ve gone worse_.

At last he let go of her, much as part of her wish that he wouldn’t. “Good night, Azula,” he bid to her. “Sleep well.”

“Good night, avatar,” she replied, quietly.

Azula would toss and turn throughout the night, unable to keep her eyes closed for long.

* * *

“Are you ready?” he asked as she finished the lightest breakfast she ever had.

He took her to the same platform he had made to open her Light chakra, leading her by the hand up the path along the Crescent’s western side. With the great fire burning in his right hand and the gentleness holding her in his left, Azula had no fear of tripping in the dark.

Aang lit the torches with his fire, then sat with her to meditate. “The last is the Thought chakra. It is located at the crown of the head. It deals with pure cosmic energies, and is blocked by earthly attachments. Meditate on what attaches you to this world.”

Azula folded her hands over her lap, saying, “This is going to be anticlimactic.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because, avatar, I have no Earthly attachments. All I have are people who...”

She had said it so many times in the past. For years, the idea of her family and friends hating her came so easy to Azula. Saying it aloud was easier than saying her own name. Every healer, from the first whose name she couldn’t remember, all the way to Chiyo and the avatar, contradicted that. At long last, Azula had developed the strength to stop herself from indulging in those thoughts. She no longer found it easy to say that she was loathed and unwanted.

“You know that they don’t hate you,” Aang told her. “You know that your brother, uncle, and mother all care about you. As do I.”

“I know, avatar,” she sighed. Hesitantly, Azula asked, “How are they?”

Aang explained, “Zuko and Mai are probably enjoying the last few moments of sleep before they’re woken up for the thousand things a fire lord and lady have to do in a day. The Jasmine Dragon must already be open by now, its customers bustling in for its world famous tea. Iroh has actually had more than one ambassador come to visit. Some people like to say that the teashop sees more peace talks than Ba Sing Se’s royal palace.”

“And my mother?”

“Helping Zuko in any way she can. She’s been an invaluable ally to us both.”

Azula bit her tongue for a moment, then confessed, “My more… optimistic side, if you can call it that, sometimes wonders if I got my insightfulness and bravery from her. It’s a nice thought at least, that those qualities were once something pure before I let my father twist them into something ugly and evil.”

“If she could see you now, your mother would be as proud of you as I am.”

She looked away from Aang. His loving encouragement was too much sometimes, and even after so long together she would not let him see her overwhelmed by his affection. He was too damn good at getting to her softer side. “Before I start trying to open this,” Azula spoke, rushing past her feelings, “can you tell me what this chakra was like for you? Why did you have trouble with it?”

He explained, somewhat uneasily, “This was the hardest chakra for me because it required me to let go of my love for Katara. I couldn’t accept that what had opened my Air chakra was also preventing me from opening the last chakra.”

Aang waved his hands together, forming a small ring of moving wind as he would for his marble trick. “Air is the element of freedom,” he explained. “My people detached themselves from earthly concerns in order to achieve spiritual enlightenment. When I was a kid listening to Monk Gyatso and my other teachers explain it to me, I assumed that one day I would do it too. But in the end it proved to be out of reach. I had to release my attachments to open the chakra, but I could not fully embrace enlightenment either. The avatar’s first responsibility must be the safety of the world. Duty… duty requires that I give up my own needs.”

“How did it feel when you opened the chakra?”

He shook off the melancholy that stained his thoughts and voice. “With my Thought chakra opened, I achieved full control over the Avatar State, and all of the wisdom and power of my past lives held within.”

“What’s it like,” she asked before considering the question, “when you’re in the Avatar State?”

“Roku once told me that I was both at my most powerful and my most vulnerable. I proved the former true against Ozai…”

She finished the sentence for him. “And I proved the latter aspect true.”

“Azula-”

“Do you truly forgive me for that?” she didn’t want to look desperate, but she was. She needed to hear him say it again.

He nodded. “As I said. I forgive you, Azula.”

She blinked and cleared her throat, trying to brush off the sentimentality that had abruptly taken hold of her. “This world doesn’t deserve you, avatar.”

“I disagree,” Aang replied, the expected kindness in his eyes and voice clearly meant for her benefit as much as the world’s. “Are you ready?” he asked.

Azula took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

First, Azula focused her mind’s eye on what attached her to the world. Before Aang came back into her life, she would have rejected the idea altogether. But now she could face the idea of being loved by others, and think of those she wished to see again.

She saw herself as she was in the present, standing atop the island’s volcano. It was a clear day, with a warm sun above her and a cool breeze blowing against her face. She turned around and found them across from her on the other side. There was Ty Lee, Mai, Uncle Iroh, Zuko, and mother. They weren’t the way she saw them last, looking at her with anger or pity or regret. They were smiling. They seemed more optimistic than Azula felt about herself.

Then, they were joined by a sixth. It was Aang, dressed in the robes he wore on the day he came to her at the asylum. His smile shined brighter than all the rest. Part of Azula felt surprised that he would be there, a former enemy counted among her earthly attachments. _No_ , she brushed the doubt away. It was more than fitting to see him with the rest. After all he had done for her, he had more than earned it. To her surprise, Aang had become her rock. A rock who she mocked in a way that only friends can, but still the rock that helped her feel grounded to reality, the foundation from which she would not slip.

Then, they began to slip away, and Azula suddenly feared that she was about to be abandoned again. _Breathe_ , she told herself. _Focus. Don’t give into such thoughts._ With the mental exercise Chiyo had taught her and the avatar had reinforced, Azula stopped her mind from slipping into darkness. It was in that clarity that she realized that they weren’t moving. She was.

She was being pulled away and upward at a great speed. The people below her slowly vanished from sight as the island beneath them turned to a pebble in her eyes, then vanished in the ocean blue. She soared through clouds until at last she hovered over the world itself. The purity of the cosmos, and all the energy held within, was waiting behind her. All Azula had to do was turn around and face it. After so long, after opening the first six chakras in the chain, after dreaming of this final point which she needed to traverse, it seemed so simple. All she had to do was turn around and embrace it.

In his meditation, Aang felt a sudden shift in Azula’s mind. Sometimes in the past, as they opened her chakras together, he was able to clearly see what she was seeing in her mind’s eye. Other times, he only got impressions based on the empathetic bond that they shared. This was one of those times. First there was the stillness when she cleared her mind, then little sparks of joy at something she saw that made her happy, a flash of fear before it was settled by a concerted effort of willpower and self-care, then surprise followed by a sense of wonder.

But now there was nothing. She had stopped altogether.

“Azula?” he asked, opening his eyes.

She was hunched over, head hung low, eyes on the ground. He could feel her slipping away, avoiding the introspection, avoiding the chakra altogether. Gone was her confidence, her bravery, the strength she had built up from opening the other chakras. It had been an arduous journey for her throughout. The anguish of her past plagued her at every chakra, and naturally Azula often recoiled from it. She needed to be encouraged to work through the turmoil that blocked each chakra. But this was different. Azula was not afraid, exactly. She wasn’t in pain either. She… she was giving up? He hadn’t expected this, not after she had come so far and was now so close to the end.

“I know opening the chakras is hard,” he consoled, “but you must keeping try-”

She cut him off. “You’ve told me every day since you came to me at Doiyasu that I was loved, that my family wanted me to get better. Chiyo and the other healers always did their best to convince me that I was worth saving, that I could get better if only I worked towards it. I listened, and the bleeding stopped. But I could not bring myself to address the root of my suffering, and I was willing to stagnate in the dark. I tricked myself into thinking that it was okay to ignore my feelings.

“Then you came back into my life like an explosion, offering to give me back what I wanted most if I was only willing to confront my pain. Like the healers before you, you said everything would come into balance if only I had the patience and dedication to work through my turmoil and find peace. All of that involved reflecting upon my past and my place in the world, and working towards a point where I could convince myself that I deserved to live in this world, that I shouldn’t hate or punish myself. I can’t say I’m free of the poisonous thoughts that tell me I’m a monster and remind me of all the monstrous things I’ve done, but at least I can fight back now. At least I can tell myself that I’ve changed, if only a little. I can say that others are rooting for me. And now…”

She paused, then looked at him with an almost accusatory glance. “Now you tell me that I must surrender my attachments to them, just when it seemed likely that I could reconnect with them? Avatar, you’ve given me the same impossible challenge that your guru gave you.”

Aang hung his head, conceding her point. “I’m sorry to put you in this situation. ...I don’t know what else to do but try to coach you through it.”

“Desperation spurred you on to open this chakra. If that battle hadn’t taken place, if you weren’t faced with the possibility of losing your friend, do you think you would still have opened the Thought chakra?”

Aang had never asked himself that question. He never needed to. “I don’t know. I would have eventually been forced to do so. There was no way I could have defeated your father without the Avatar State.”

Then, Aang could feel another moment of clarity wash over Azula. “But I’m not trying to unlock the power of past lives,” she said, a spark of daring certainty returning to her voice.

“Azula?”

“A real firebender doesn’t allow adversity to stand in their way. They define their own power, not the other way around. I define my fire. So long as I live in this world, I choose how it is used.”

Aang nodded, unsure of where she was going with this. “All true.”

“If I must come to terms with what I’ve done, with the kind of person that I used to be and the person who I wish to be, and what place I want to make for myself in this world…” Slowly, the fearless steel that he expected of Azula returned to her eyes. “What use do I have for cosmic energy?”

Without another word, Azula leapt to her feet and took off running up the rocky path leading to the top of the volcano. 

Aang was quick to his feet. “Azula!” he called out, but she kept running. “I guess this is karma for what I did to Pathik,” he said before following her.

The island wasn’t that tall, yet running after her felt like a long chase. The blue-black color of the sky was fading at the approach of morning. Azula slipped from view ahead of him as she stepped onto the sealed opening of the volcano. As Aang’s head began to peer over the top, he was hit in the face by the light of the rising sun. As he stepped onto the volcano top and his vision cleared, he saw her standing on the opposite edge, facing the horizon without fear.

He wasn’t sure how long they were standing there, basking in the sunlight. Time didn’t seem to move correctly as he watched her. The words of Jeong Jeong and the Sun Chief echoed in his mind, of the power of the sun, of the teachings of dragons, and of the ways a firebender shapes their inner fire.

 _Please_ , he prayed. _She’s come so far. Please let this work._

He saw her assume her classic firebending stance. In that instant, nothing else in the world existed by the two of them, the island, and the sun. In the silence of the morning, he could hear the slow, strong breath she inhaled through her nose. Then, Azula thrust her fist forward in a powerful jab, and a streak of blue fire erupted from it.

“Yes!” Aang cried out. She did it! She really did it! After everything, all of the turmoil, all of the pain and suffering that she had endured, Azula was at last a firebender once again!

She took a moment for herself, marveling at the return of her bending. Then, Azula turned to face him, a determined look on her face. Aang’s elation slowly shifted to confusion as he tried to discern what was going through her head. Then, Azula widened her feet and held her hands up in an offensive stance.

 _No_. This couldn’t be it. Not after everything. This couldn’t be how their journey together would end.

Then, her resolution faltered, as if in recognition of the hurt he plainly showed. “This isn’t,” she called out to him, her voice faltering. “I didn’t mean, I just wanted to… I need to see what I can still do. Please. Spar with me.”

Aang let out a huge sigh of relief. “As you wish, Azula,” he said, taking his own firebending stance.

For a moment, the pair just stood there, sizing each other up, waiting for the other to make a move. Then, Azula committed to the first strike, jabbing forward and sending a small fireball straight for him. Aang sidestepped and parried with his hand, knocking the fire away. She followed with a series of punches and kicks in quick succession, sending flame after flame at him. He dodged and blocked every blow. Part of him told him to keep doing that. _Be careful, don’t be too aggressive, don’t rush her_. 

But then he realized that this wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t want him holding back. Azula needed a partner, not a target. Aang took a breath, steadying himself, and launched his first fire blast of the match at her. Azula crossed her arms and held them up, taking the brunt of the attack head on. The sheer force of it sent her skidding back until she planted her feet and broke her arms up, scattering the fire to each side. For a second, Aang feared he went too far. 

Azula smiled at him. “Am I finally going to see some true aggression from you, avatar?” she called out, her smirk daring him to push his offense.

“Better!” he called back, feeling himself overcome with a burning boldness. “Now you get to see me have some real fun with firebending!”

Aang showed her what he meant, sweeping his leg out low to send a wave of flames at her feet. She ran towards him and jumped over it, using two quick punches midair to send fire straight for his feet. In response, he shot his hand out to his left, creating an intense stream of fire to propel him out of the way.

As they continued, matching each other blow for flaming blow, their fight slowly changed from long, to medium, and finally to short range, each movement bringing them closer and closer together. Before long they were close enough to physically hit each other. At so close range, they instinctively reared their fists back and launched a fiery punch at their partner, only to move in sync and parry the other’s attack with their free hand.

Without thinking, Azula spun around and seized his shoulder, trying to pull him down. Aang grabbed hold of her wrist, intent on leveraging his way out and locking her into a grapple. He stepped to the left to let her stumble off balance, and found nothing but air beneath his foot. It was in that moment that their eyes met and they came to the same realization: neither had been minding their footing, and they were now falling right over the edge of the volcano together.

There were probably a dozen ways he could have caught her and himself without issue, but Aang was off balance in more ways than one. As gravity began pulling them down, all he could do was thrust his free hand out, summoning a slab of earth to jut forward from the wall of the cliff to catch them. They landed with a thud, an ‘oof!’ escaping their lips.

As Aang opened his eyes, his gaze met hers once again. She was right below him, their chests almost touching, her face only a few inches from his. He still had a hold of her wrist, keeping it stretched up above her head. Azula’s eyes were so wide that her eyelids seemed to disappear, her cheeks colored bright red. There was no doubt in Aang’s mind that his own face mirrored hers.

Finally, a cool breeze struck him in the side of his face, knocking some sense back into him. Aang calmly got off her, then took her hand to pull her back up. It was a moment or two before they both remembered how to breathe.

“Rusty,” Azula told herself, turning her head so he couldn’t see her face. “Poor footwork. …and I forgot to maintain proper breath control.”

“Yeah. Breath control,” he replied, trying and failing to hide the awkward strain in his voice. “But don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re just getting back into the swing of things.”

“Sure. I’m… I’m going to head back to camp,” she said, climbing back onto the volcano top.

“Okay,” he replied, rubbing the back of his head. “I’ll, uh… I’ll catch up with you later.”

Azula made it only a few steps away from him before she stopped. She did not turn to look at him as she slowly said, “Thank you, Avatar Aang. For everything.”

Aang looked up to her. He was speechless for a moment, and then a smile returned to his lips. “You’re welcome, Azula.”

She took her leave. Once she was out of sight and earshot, Aang brought his folded hands to his mouth, letting out a long breath as he collapsed to the ground.

* * *

After collecting himself, which took far too long, Aang returned to camp, where he immediately started to cook, desperate to have something else occupy his mind. As he stirred, he could hear her in the distance, practicing with both fire and lightning. By the sound of it, she was quickly getting reaccustomed to it. The roaring bolts caused an almost itching sensation in his back. He dismissed it and went back to his soup.

When Azula did not return for lunch, Aang made his way to where she was practicing and left her soup, bread, and water on a stone nearby. It was almost nightfall when she finally returned to camp for dinner. Appa and Momo were antsy at her approach, on guard to see if her newly restored bending would rear its ugly head against them or Aang. But Azula made no aggressive move towards them. She didn’t even say anything, outside of a short grunt of gratitude when he handed her dinner. Slowly over their time together, Azula’s seat at the campfire had gradually gotten closer and closer to his own seat, but tonight she sat directly across from him, just as she had done when they first came to Crescent Island. Her continued silence as they ate was worrying, so Aang sought to end it. “Having fun, Azula?” he asked. “Feeling back in the swing of things?”

She nodded and kept eating, saying nothing, her expression neutral and illegible.

“If there’s something on your mind, Azula, my ears are always open.”

“I know,” she said, then went right back to eating.

“...if you’re not ready to talk, that’s okay. Take as much time as you need. I’m always here to listen.”

She made a half-hearted grunt in acknowledgement. Even after so long together, she could still be a mystery to him when she wanted to be. When she finished her meal, she put her plate aside and walked back to her tent.

“Good night, princess,” called out to her, treating her title with the sincere respect he never showed to it before.

“Good night, avatar,” she responded, her voice low, before disappearing into her tent.

* * *

Sleep did not come easy. It never does when one has too much on their mind. For Aang, his was plagued by questions of what would happen next. What would Azula think of Zuko’s gift once it arrived? Would they see each other again after she left? He thought that they had forged a good rapport during their time together, but did she feel the same? Her bending was restored, and she seemed healthy and strong. Aang felt that he had done everything right by her, yet still he turned and fidgeted beneath his blanket. Never before had Aang so desperately wanted to see into the future. The vision that Kokkanzo Forest gave him played over and over in his mind. Was there something he missed? He had helped Azula, but how would this lead to the girl and her mother? Or, was this meant to lead to the elders he saw? Did his vision fail him? Or… did he fail it?

Eventually, Aang did manage to sluggishly fall asleep in spite of his overactive brain.

An hour or so later, he was awoken by vibrations rippling through the hand that rested on the ground to the side of his sleeping mat. His perception was hazy, unable to give him a clear picture through the sand beneath his tent. Suddenly, the sound of moving drapes at the tent’s entrance slithered into his ears. He raised himself to an elbow and saw her.

Azula stood at the entrance of his tent, a blue flame burning in her left hand. Its light illuminated her face and figure in a foreboding manner, casting long shadows on the wall of the tent behind her.

“Having trouble sleeping?” he asked, calmly.

“You knew I was here.” It wasn’t a question.

“It’s an earthbending technique that Toph taught me. It saved my life on more than one occasion.”

“Do you feel in danger?”

“Should I?” he asked, his throat feeling dry.

She took small steps towards him, slowly closing the gap between them until she stood directly over him. Seeing her like this sent a shiver down Aang’s spine, but he refused to let that feeling show on his face.

“Are those ears still open for what’s on my mind?” she asked.

“Always.”

“Are you sure? I might say something you won’t like.” There was an almost toying aspect to Azula’s voice. Not quite like the manipulator she once was, but not too dissimilar from it either.

“As I said,” he countered, his tone supportive but stubbornly so. “Always.”

Azula stared at him for a moment. It had been so long since she used her silence as a weapon against him that he had forgotten what it felt like. Unlike before, however, there was no ice in her unyielding glare. There was a controlled fire in her eyes to match the one burning in her hand. “You’ve told me in the past of the freedom that airbending gives you, that a nomadic lifestyle gives you. But firebending is dictated by the will to achieve our desires. It’s the element of power.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” 

“Azula, why are you here?”

She studied him in silence again, letting him feel it under her gaze. If she thought he might squirm under her the accusation in her eyes, she was wrong. Finally, Azula continued. “The cores of our native elements are one and the same right now. You’ve helped me regain the power I had lost, but you still hold my freedom in your hands.”

“I’m not keeping you prisoner here, Azula.”

“Not with chains or the medicines my keepers once used to keep me docile. More than a few things changed after Chiyo took over my care. We’ve been here, what? Weeks? A month?” she questioned, her voice snapping and harsh with each word. “And our prior interactions were as enemies. My old enemy gave me back my fire. What am I to do, to be so in debt to the great, world-saving avatar?”

“You think you’re in debt to me?” At last she had gone too far, causing anger to begin staining Aang’s voice. “Azula, I thought that after everything, taking you from the asylum, opening your chakras, listening to you bear your soul on more than one occasion and you hearing me do the same to you, helping you heal… I thought that maybe we had started to become friends.”

Azula closed her eyes, unable to look at him. “Friendship requires trust, and I forgot how to trust anyone. Even myself. Why do you think it took me so long to regain any sense of stability after my defeat?”

There was a flash that overtook Azula’s expression. Doubt? Regret over what she was doing? It was gone before Aang could read further into it, replaced with the cool, controlled look of the strategist that she had always been. “Before I lost hope of restoring my firebending, I asked myself what I would do if it suddenly came back.” Azula took in an unstable breath. “The answer I came up with was simple: I would claim the freedom that so many take for granted, that was denied to me by my father, my brother, and my healers. I would burn my way to freedom if that’s what it took.”

“Do you intend to burn me?” Fear began mixing in his guts, painfully twisting them. Fighting Azula was a nightmare scenario that he would do almost anything to avoid.

She did not dissuade his anxiety when she replied, “Not if I can help it. Let’s just say I’m here for a little… peace of mind.”

“Is that why you’ve come to me like this?” he asked, his anxiety turning into umbrage. “Instead of just talking with me about it at dinner, you barge into my tent in the middle of the night, just so you could what? Feel like you have the upper hand?”

She shrugged. “A princess knows how to deal from a position of strength. It is one of the few lessons of my youth that I refuse to let go of.”

“Clearly.”

The fire in her hand did not grow in size, but it began to concentrate. He could feel its increasing heat. “I’m here tonight because I want to know that I’m free to live and choose as I see fit… and I want an answer.”

“What answer?”

Azula knelt down beside him, keeping her hand to the side so the fire was equal distance from them both. She was so close to him now. “I have a question, and you know how good I am with lies. I’ll see through any-”

“You know me, Azula.”

She blinked, surprised at the unwavering strength he showed in his eyes and voice. Aang insisted, “I withheld your mother’s letter and the contents of my vision only because I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t have any unhealthy reaction to either. But when you showed me that you were ready, I didn’t hesitate to share with you. I haven’t lied to you once. Ever. You know me.”

Azula stared at him, then nodded, seemingly in approval. “I sometimes forget how strong your backbone is. You’re willing to dodge and evade so much of what burdens you, it can be easy to overlook the unbreakable power you wield.”

“That’s how I get when it comes to my friends. There’s nothing in this world that’ll stop me from protecting them from whatever might harm them. That includes themselves if need be.”

She considered him for a moment, then continued. “Your efforts have not been in vain, avatar. I’m grateful for what you’ve managed to do. You’re the only person who could have guided me through this trial. You helped me tend to injuries that I had forgotten or ignored for so long. But this is bigger than all of that. You’re too good at playing to my sentimental tendencies.”

“Is that all we have between us, Azula?” Aang asked, his voice betraying just how hurt he felt. “Sentiment?”

For a moment, Aang could see recognition in her eyes. She knew that she had gone too far and did damage she did not want to do. Remorse overtook her face, and she opened her mouth as if to take back the things she said that hurt him. But she froze before any words came. As if in response to those feelings, she doubled down on her anger, refusing to let herself feel anything else. “You did all this because some vision from a spiritually infested forest planted the idea in your head. But we shape our own destinies. You’re too strong to let something else determine the course of your life. You shape your destiny like clouds, avatar? Tell me what you’ll shape it into next.”

“I don’t know,” he answered with a small shrug.

Azula did not hide her outrage. “What the hell do you mean by that!?”

“I live in peace with the world around me, just as the monks taught me. I don’t try to constantly exert my will over life.”

“I can’t accept that!”

“Why?” Aang demanded.

Azula’s lips curled back, letting him see her gritted teeth. Then, the enraged steel in her gaze bent until it finally broke. A tear burst forth and flowed down her cheek. As much as she didn’t want to, grief overtook her voice. “For the first time in so long, I don’t hate myself. I’m not afraid that one day I’ll end my own life. I actually feel strong again. After three agonizing years, I have my fire back! But… but how do I know this will last? How do I know I’m not going to fuck this up like I did with everything else in my life!?

“I accepted your teachings and went along with your plan. And no matter how difficult I was, you still guided me. I gave you so many reasons to abandon me like everyone else did, but you didn’t. Now it’s your turn to follow the teachings of my element. Show me you have the energy to shape your own destiny. Show me you have the willpower of a true firebender. Fuck visions, fuck the past, and fuck inner turmoil! Show me, avatar!”

Suddenly, Azula stopped herself. She closed her eyes and started to take slow, deep breaths. As Aang watched some of the tension in her body release and relax, he recognized what she was doing both from Doiyasu’s reports and from their time together on the island. This was a mental exercise for Azula, one to stop her from following her intrusive thoughts into a self-destructive spiral. Aang could see the little twitches of her face. She was always like this when there was a war in her head, an avalanche of wayward thoughts that she needed to stop from sabotaging her life. When she at last steadied herself and opened her eyes again, her anger had evaporated. Now… now she just needed to know.

“Please, Aang,” she begged, the tears falling from her eyes one by one. “Tell me what you’re going to do next. Tell me… tell me what comes next for us?”

Aang was frozen, staring into her eyes. Gone was any anger or fear that she had roused in him, gone was the sense of betrayal he felt as she underplayed or discarded their time together. Confined within his tent, the sound of her slow, labored breathing deafened the waves at the nearby shore. Lost in thought over the answer to her question, Aang realized that Azula was right. He was good at evading his own needs and wants. He had so much experience at it. But what did he want? What unfulfilled need did he have? What was he supposed to do? What could he do to help Azula? ...what could he do to help them both?

His heart had one good idea.

Aang cautiously raised his left hand to her cheek, slowly moving his fingers across her smooth skin until he was cupping her cheek in his palm. There was a moment, as the two looked into each other’s eyes, where he hesitated. Azula clearly hadn’t planned on getting an answer like this, and couldn’t predict what he would do next. Neither did he. Experience told him one thing, intuition told him another. But their counsel paled in the way he felt looking at her, the way her smooth skin felt in his hand, how his thumb instinctively wiped the tear from her cheek. Aang looked for a sign, any sign, that she wanted him to stop. He could see in her eyes that she recognized what he was searching for. In response, Azula slowly raised her right hand up, and held it against the back of his hand, leaning into his comforting touch.

Then, suddenly, Aang released his restraint. He raised himself upwards and brought his lips to her own. Slowly, the fire in her hand died out, and in the dark he felt her arms wrap around him, holding him tight as she kissed him back.

* * *

They slept long into the morning. Aang woke to the sight of Azula next to him, asleep with her arms wrapped around his torso and her head laying against his chest. She was naked beneath their blanket, but so was he. Aang was in no rush to get out of bed, content with keeping his half-open eyes on her. He moved the fingers he had resting on her arm ever so slightly so as not to wake her, just wanting to feel the smoothness of her skin, and look at her as she slept so peacefully.

Eventually, Azula began to stir, slowly opening her eyes.

“Good morning,” he whispered.

She groaned in acknowledgment. She hadn’t been a morning person since they first came, and that fact didn’t seem likely to change now. Azula then mumbled something to the effect of, “What’s for breakfast?”

“I can probably whip up some porridge.”

He received a displeased moan in response.

“Or maybe I could do something with the last of our pastries and fruit.”

She reached a hand up to pat him on the face, mumbling, “Good boy.”

Aang pulled on his trousers and exited the tent. He didn’t even make it to their food stores when he was surprised by Appa and Momo.

“Good morning, guys,” he greeted, trying to look innocent.

If a flying bison and a flying lemur could raise one eyebrow each to look at someone in disapproving disbelief, Appa and Momo would be doing it right now. For Aang, they were as easy to read as any human being. “Trust me, guys,” he assured them. “I know what I’m doing.”

When Azula eventually emerged, she did so only in her red robe, tied loosely by the sash at her waist. She took the bowl he handed to her and sat down next to him. The days of them sitting on opposite sides of the campfire were gone, it seemed.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked.

“Surprisingly well, though it took a while before I was tired enough to fall asleep.”

He giggled. She rolled her eyes, but part of her was clearly laughing too. “I wasn’t expecting a monk to be so knowledgeable in such regards.”

“Well, almost half of my past lives are women. I guess I have quite a lot of insider knowledge.”

Azula laughed. “Well, for a first time, a girl could do worse.”

Aang’s face lit up. “I was your first!?”

In response, she raised the back of her fingers to his cheek, gently slapping him. “Don’t get romantic on me, avatar. My father sent no suitors at me, and no one at the asylum would try something with a patient they were scared to death of.”

“Still. Tell a decent man you were his first, he’s going to get at least a little corny.”

Azula let out a breath of razzing laughter. “And that’s why men are weak,” she proclaimed before kissing him.

They quickly got lost in each other. Azula held onto the sides of his head, keeping him there and pulling herself closer until she was almost on his lap, her chest pressed against his. His strong, loving hand ran through her long hair before coming back to rest against the back of her head. It wasn’t until Aang’s free hand started to pull at the sash keeping her robe closed that a loud bellow stopped them.

The pair opened their eyes and turned their heads to see a clearly miffed Appa with an equally miffed Momo atop his head, glaring at the sight that almost transpired before them.

Azula groaned. “Your friends are worse than any nanny alive.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, as much to Azula as to them.

“You know,” she said, readjusting the sash and getting off of him, “if anything, I should be the surprised one. Shouldn’t you have a harem by now?”

“Why?” he playfully retorted. “Are you offering to make me one?”

“Keep dreaming, avatar,” she told him, tossing another cherry into her mouth. “I refuse to be anything other than the sole source of attention.”

“If that’s how you want it, then that’s how it will be.”

“Damn straight,” she said, trailing her finger over his toned chest. “Still, how exactly is it that no one besides Katara has coaxed you into their bed?

Aang shrugged. “Never got around to it.”

“Don’t kid me, avatar. A man like you, and the avatar to boot? I’m sure women from all over the world would work themselves half to death for a shot at you.”

“Guys and others too,” Aang added, taking a sip of tea. “Yeah, I’ve been flirted with. By a lot of people, really. ...I don’t know. I dated Katara for six years, so it was easy back then to turn down anyone who tried. After we broke up, I guess I just couldn’t take anyone up on their offer.”

“So I’m really only the second person you’ve been with? There’s no one else you’re with at the moment?”

He shook his head. “The Air Nomads weren’t big on labels or limits. Polygamy was pretty common back in the day. But, for me, I’ve always been a one-woman kinda guy.”

She pulled him into another kiss. “Good.”

They settled into their new routine quickly, enjoying it for the next few days. Instead of watching him practice his firebending, she joined him, mixing her flames with his. They even revisited Aang’s Flying Lemur form, adding some of the changes Azula had suggested to make it more applicable for other firebenders while retaining the core style and purpose that Aang envisioned.

They made love every night, and often in the morning and afternoon as well. Once, when he called it making love to her face, Azula flicked him in the forehead and called him a dork. Truth be told, Aang loved all of it. A woman who was powerful, beautiful, and more than willing to tease him was his ideal partner. Hell, even Katara, one of the kindest people he knew, would roast him from time to time when they were together.

Appa and Momo were still not on board with the relationship, and Azula had difficulty staying quiet when they were in the heat of it. Luckily, they had the rest of the island to themselves.

“What would the world think,” she taunted in between her panting breaths, “if they knew that their avatar takes his lovers in public where anyone could see them?”

She was above him, her head blocking out the sun overhead, her long, unbraided hair blowing in the wind. Between him and the layer of earth he formed to seal off the top of the volcano were their discarded clothes, which they had turned into improvised bedding. They moved in synchrony, each motion of their bodies sending waves of pleasure through them both. She had one knee on each side of his hips, her arms wrapped around his neck, and he held her with one hand on the small of her back, the other fondling her breast.

“I’ll just tell them you’re a bad influence on me,” Aang retorted before kissing her again.

The volcano top was her favorite spot, which was no surprise to him. With the sun far above and the lava far below, it appealed to her inner firebender. His too, to be honest. More than once they had started firebending together, sharing their forms and techniques with each other, only for exercise to descend into sex. When she wasn’t pulling him away from where Momo and Appa would see them, he was carrying her to whatever spot struck his fancy that day.

Aang had intended for this island to be their own private sanctuary for her journey into unlocking her chakras. He never would have guessed that it would turn into a love nest.

* * *

He knew their time was up when he opened the last of the chests holding their rations and found it nearly empty. Aang had packed for a long stay, and at last it seemed that stay was nearing its end.

The letter he had to write wasn’t long. The ship was already in position, her captain only needed to be told when to come. But the few words the message needed would not make the journey from his fingers to the parchment. Aang didn’t want to write them, and had put it off more than once that day. But wisdom eventually won out over sentiment. For the sake of returning to his duty as the avatar, and for Azula’s own sake as well, he wrote, _I succeeded. She is ready. Please come now, captain_.

Getting Momo into the harness that could hold the scroll was almost as difficult. Aang had specifically refused bringing a trained messenger hawk to avoid giving Azula any wrong impression, and she would have seen through any lie that he had so conveniently taken on a third animal companion. In preparation for this, he made the trip with Momo back and forth between Crescent Island and the nearby port where the ship was anchored just so Momo would be more comfortable flying the distance alone. But what Aang hadn’t done was do that exercise while Momo wore the leather harness that would contain the message for the captain. Getting him into it was harder than giving a cat a bath.

“Momo, please,” Aang asked, trying to keep them both hushed so that Azula couldn’t hear them. “The ship’s not that far away. You’ll be back before you know it.”

Momo gave him an uncomfortable look, then allowed Aang to finish attaching the harness. Momo needed a moment to adjust to flying with it on, then took off in the direction of the port and the waiting ship.

“All good things must come to an end,” he mused, much as he wished it wasn’t true.

At dinner, Azula asked, “Where’s Momo?”

“He likes to explore the island. He’ll be back soon.” It wasn’t a total lie, as Momo did explore the island for much of their stay. If Azula suspected he wasn’t being honest, she gave no sign of it.

That, if anything, made Aang feel worse.

* * *

Azula awoke the next morning to an empty bed. That didn’t surprise her. Despite her efforts to the contrary, Aang was still a morning person, and she was heavy enough of a sleeper that he could slip out of their nightly embrace without disturbing her. As she wiped the grogginess from her brow, she noticed a neatly folded pile of the clothes she normally wore laid out next to her. That was new. As much of a busybody and homemaker that he was, Aang would still leave some chores for her to do. It had actually been a minor point of contention early on, when he first asked her for help. She protested that princesses don’t do such tasks. He responded with his typically endearing/infuriating smirk and asked if it was too much for her to handle. She growled and started cleaning her tent. Sure, having items in a daily schedule, even if it was menial busywork, was good for her mental wellbeing, but she would never say that out loud. Aang was insufferable enough already without knowing that she thought he was right.

She dressed for the day and left their tent, only to find their campfire was destroyed, the tent she no longer slept in taken down, and all of their provisions and supplies were packed.

“Aang?” she called out, receiving no response.

She looked around but couldn’t find him. With a sudden accelerated heart beat pounding away in her chest, Azula darted down the beach. She found him at the end of the shoreline, sitting where he once constructed pools to demonstrate the chakras to her. There was no surprising him. Her panic had sent sand flying with each step, and he heard her approach. “Good morning, Azula.” His tranquil, restrained voice gave it away immediately. He was controlling how he expressed himself to her, suppressing whatever he was really feeling.

“What’s going?” she asked, her words tripping over her shock.

He calmly stood up straight, and pointed to the northeast. Out in the distance, Azula spotted an approaching warship, one not too dissimilar from the minor vessel that Zuko commanded during his exile. “What is this?” she asked, dread gripping her by the throat.

He gave her a little smile, but she could clearly see the sadness in his eyes. “Zuko and I agreed that if you passed the trial and that if you earned my trust, you would be free to go your own way.”

Her apprehension lifted as disbelief took its place. “You would release me?”

He nodded. “You accomplished everything I hoped you would. You’re free to do as you see fit. That ship will take you anywhere you want to go.”

Azula stared at him in astonishment. She took in an uneasy breath as she looked towards the ship. She only managed to take a few steps away from him before Aang’s voice stopped her. “Of course, there is another option if you don’t like the ship.”

She turned back. “And what would that be?”

A small bit of hope returned to the avatar’s face. She could see he gave up repressing himself around her and honestly showed what he felt. “There’s plenty of room on Appa, and as you know there’s nothing like the view you get from the back of a flying bison.”

 _Is he…?_ This seemed almost too good to be true, but Azula wasn’t going to let the darker parts of her mind get in the way. “Was this part of the plan you worked out with Zuko?” Azula questioned with a raised brow. “To offer me a choice between a ship and you?”

“No,” Aang admitted. “For all the things you’ve learned on this island, you’ve reminded me of a lesson that I’ve ignored in the past.”

“Which is?”

He gave her a knowing smile. “That I shouldn’t be afraid to be who I want, and to pursue what I want with fire in my belly.”

She closed the small gap between them, crossing her arms as a smile came to her lips. “You think just because we fucked that I’m yours?”

His smile turned to a complete smirk. After so much time with her, he gave as good as he got. “I think I know you well enough by now that no one can tie you down. That is, unless you want them to.”

She laughed, then slowly dropped her gaze, looking away from him. She never expected to be given this choice. Even at her most anxious or her most paranoid, even at the times where she was able to consider her situation rationally, she still wasn’t able to predict how her journey here would end. Aang had kept his word. He gave her back both her fire and her freedom, in more ways than one.

But now what was she to do with them? To sail the ocean with loyal Fire Nation soldiers and sailors under her command, bound to no one but herself, or to fly in the company of the one man who saw her as an equal, and maybe even as a… as a friend? When she first arrived, she would have taken the ship in a heartbeat after restoring her firebending, even if the warship waiting for her out beyond the surf wasn’t quite up to a princess’ standards. But now… 

She still didn’t entirely trust herself, but she felt strong enough not to slip back into her old ways. Azula believed she would not command the waiting ship as she commanded others in the past, but she still had her doubts, and the fear of what her self-loathing might prod her into. Could she be a decent leader, even of such a small crew? Was command something she even wanted anymore?

On the other hand, taking his offer had no strings attached, and some rather pleasurable perks. Even if she wouldn’t tell him to his face, Aang had changed her for good. “People will say you’re taking a huge risk, avatar.”

He shook his head, his smile growing wider. “That’s not how I see it.”

Azula couldn’t help but smile back.

As if on cue, Appa stepped up to them, his saddle packed and ready to go, with Momo already onboard and peeking down at them. Both were visibly unsure of what to make of the scene in front of them, but they weren’t going to stop them. They had become accustomed to Azula’s presence and were willing to accept any food that she offered them, but they still didn’t trust her yet. _Perhaps I can win them over too_ , she thought with an optimism that surprised her.

“What do you say, princess?” Aang asked, holding out his hand. “Want to see the world with me?”

Without fear, hesitation, or doubt, Azula took his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Book 1 of the Azulaang Chakras trilogy.  
> Thank you to my readers for your patience. As you can see, this ending grew in size over time, needing more and more care to see it to completion. There was also a lot of personal anxiety getting in the way of writing, but that happens to all of us.
> 
> As I have said in past comments, there are two sequels planned for Aang and Azula's story. The sequels will be of a more episodic nature, but they will explore this new relationship as it develops.  
> I'm also excited to announce that while working on this last chapter, I have begun work on a prequel/spinoff. It will be a katoph fanfic, detailing how their relationship came to be in Omashu. No idea when that will come out, but it will likely be out before the next azulaang fic.
> 
> Thank you all for reading! As always, let me know what you think in the comments!
> 
> ...and, because I've associated this song with azulaang ever since irresistible-revolution made a joke about it, a joke which has been reinforced by other azulaang shippers, I will say that it finally happened.  
> Aang finally got that W.A.P.  
> Thank you, I'll be here all week!
> 
> With warmest regards to you all,  
> A.F.S.M.A.S


End file.
